


Are You Razzing Her Up?

by thewildtype



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Gay Drama, Heterosexuals? Never heard of them, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, basically this is an excuse to make Killing Eve gayer, mutual scar touching, starts out soft, then gets smutty, there's a plot in there somewhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:54:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24672673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewildtype/pseuds/thewildtype
Summary: Post 3x08 series of events that follows Villanelle and Eve's journey which will inevitably intertwine with the rest of the Killing Eve cast of characters.“It’s not like we have jobs or income, Eve. A single room made the most economic sense.”“Just because you used to make the most money in this relationship doesn’t mean you’re automatically in charge of the money.”“So, you admit it, we are in a relationship.”“Shut up.”“Why don’t you make me?”
Relationships: Carolyn Martens/ Hélène (Killing Eve), Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 121
Kudos: 578





	1. 3 Seconds Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story picks up 3 seconds after the end of 3x08.
> 
> Eve's POV

Song inspiration - She by Hayley Kiyoko, because its pride month and we should let lesbian Jesus guide us through these dark times we live in.

_Don’t wanna to be dreaming, warm in bed._

_Don’t wanna be old with one regret._

_Gotta be a diva, have respect._

_Be that girl you can’t forget_

**3 Seconds Later**

[Tower Bridge, London]

Eve was frozen in place, tempted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

_She turned around too… ouch!_

The pinch was proof that she was very much awake. Villanelle was indeed standing across the bridge wearing her signature triumphant smirk as if she expected Eve to turn around. The moment felt heavy as if they were standing on the precipice of uncharted territory.

She took a few tentative steps towards Villanelle; her mind racing.

_Will my feelings really go away forever if I walk away now or further consume my being?_

Each thought propelled her legs faster towards the younger woman.

_What if that was the last time I saw her annoyingly beautiful face?_

Tears streaming down her face the more she dwelled on the finality of walking away.

_Can I live without knowing what she is thinking, doing, and feeling all the time?_

She was done with maybes, what-ifs, and might have beens. This was her chance to explore a future with the woman that consumed her every waking thought.

_I want to stay._

Her surroundings transformed into a muffled haze of passing pedestrians and rumbling vehicles.

_I need to stay._

The only clarity she had was the blonde woman rushing towards her.

_I choose to stay._

They quickly bridged the distance between them and collided in a passionate embrace. Eve buried her head in the crook of Villanelle’s neck while the remainder of her tears fell. Villanelle held her flush against her body and rubbed soothing circles along her back in an attempt to stop her shoulders from shaking uncontrollably.

“Are you sure, Eve?” The younger woman gently whispered in her ear as if she were afraid to spook the older woman.

Eve loosened her vice grip on Villanelle just enough to pull her face out of her neck and look into her hazel eyes. Villanelle gazing at her with honest concern made her heart flutter and caused the emotions that have been haunting her over the past few months to flood to the surface. Everything tumbled out uncontrollably now that the emotional dam was breached.

“Since the first time we saw each other, not a day has gone by when I haven’t thought about you. Even when you shot me and left me for dead in Rome,” Eve let out a breathless laugh and Villanelle diverted her eyes at the mention of Rome, “especially then, I couldn’t help from wondering where you were, what you were doing, and if you were still thinking about me? Clearly, we have _a lot_ to talk about and work through. Neither of us is perfect and we’ve _both_ caused each other pain and heart ache.”

Eve gingerly cupped Villanelle’s cheek and tilted her face towards her to establish eye contact again before continuing.

“But at the end of the day I _need_ to know what this is between us. I wasn’t expecting this… I wasn’t expecting _you_ , but here you are and now we have a chance to really explore what this is between us. I can’t walk away from that, can you?”

Villanelle seemed to be on the verge of tears herself, staring into Eve’s eyes so intensely as if she was attempting to search the depth of her soul for her answer.

“Of course, I don’t want to walk away from you Eve. I want to be with you all of the time. It’s just.. these feelings you want me to help you stop won’t go away if we stay together.”

Villanelle’s words rang true and she knew these confusing feelings she had for the younger woman would only continue to intensify the more time they spent together. Eve could already feel this happening in the fleeting encounters they have shared up until this point. It was terrifying and overwhelming not to be in control of her own powerful emotions; but here in Villanelle’s arms she felt safe and secure. She knew deep down that facing her feelings head-on was a less terrifying reality than the alternative had she chosen to never look back.

“I know," Eve confessed, "but I’d rather process my emotions _with_ you rather than walk away feel nothing at all.”

Villanelle wiped the remaining tears from Eve’s face and secured her arms around her waist; she lowered her neck to rest her forehead against Eve’s with a small lopsided smile on her face. The younger woman sighed at the contact and seemed to be taking comfort in Eve’s admission. “So, what do we do now?”

Eve couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face at the tenderness of this moment. She lowered her hands soothingly down Villanelle’s shoulders to rest on her biceps which she squeezed encouragingly as she answered.

“We try something new… no more secrets, no more lies. Just you and me navigating whatever comes next. Together. Are you willing to try that?”

“I like trying new things with you.” Villanelle responded in a husky tone that sent a shiver down the brunette’s spin.

Eve couldn’t help but direct her gaze to Villanelle’s intoxicating crooked smile. Before she lost her nerve, she stood up on her toes to capture Villanelle’s lips.

Gone was the anger and rage that drove their first kiss. This felt different; it was something new, like both women were sealing a promise to one another.

Eve moved her hands back up to Villanelle’s neck to pull her in closer and deepen the kiss. Villanelle responded by tightening her grip on Eve’s waist as if she was trying to pull them impossibly closer together. Feeling emboldened by their newfound closeness, Eve seize the opportunity to try something new. She sucked in Villanelle’s bottom lip and grazed it with her teeth causing Villanelle to involuntary moan from the sensation.

Eve felt powerful having elicited such an intoxicating noise from the blonde. She parted her mouth to allow Villanelle slip in her tongue as the kiss became quickly heated. 

Their shortly lived tongue tango was interrupted by a very rude, “Get a room!” shouted by a biker passing along the bridge.

Now that the spell was broken, Eve realized she was suspended in the air. She quickly deduced that Villanelle must have lifted her off the ground at some point during their impromptu make out session. Both women were panting in an attempt to reintroduce oxygen into their lungs while Villanelle gently lowered Eve to the ground.

“That pervert is right. We should get a room somewhere; it’s getting late and we can’t stay at your apartment. It isn’t safe.”

“You’re right, the Twelve probably already sent one of their minions there.”

Villanelle grabbed Eve’s hand and interlocked their fingers as they walked off the bridge side by side, leading them in the opposite direction in which they initially arrived.

“Yes, and also the last time I was at your apartment I heard little squeaks and footsteps coming from everywhere. Rodents are not sanitary roommates, Eve.”

“I do _not_ have rats subletting my apartment.”

Villanelle widened both eyes and dramatically mouthed “OK”.

Eve playfully slapped the younger woman’s arm with her free hand.

“For a minute there I thought you were trying to sweep me off my feet not mock my cleaning habits.”

Villanelle’s eyes lit up with joy, clearly ignoring Eve’s comments about cleanliness, “Did you like it? I saw that in a movie once.”

Eve squeezed Villanelle’s hand tighter and playfully rolled her eyes, internally pleased with Villanelle’s attempt at conventional romance, “Of course you did.”

_She’s gonna get it done._

_She’ll do it on the run_

_But have so much fun._


	2. 30 Minutes Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle and Eve enter a hotel for the night to escape detection from the Twelve.
> 
> Villanelle's POV  
> Side note, I’m American and have no clue what goes on in London hotels so if this was a hot mess, I’m sorry.

Song inspiration – Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA 

_'Cause everything is new_

_And everything is you_

_And all I've learned has overturned_

_What can I do..._

** 30 Minutes Later **

[Somewhere Nearby, London]

Becoming a successful international assassin required mastering more than the art of combat and seduction. It also demanded countless hours of vigorous training to learn how to hide in plain sight. Villanelle was thankful for her years of preparation and many jobs in London for which she engrained a mental blueprint of the city streets and could now recall the locations of all active CCTV cameras. She chuckled to herself at the irony of this situation; she was utilizing her talents for her and Eve to evade detection by the very people who gifted her these lifesaving skills.

After carefully maneuvering through the streets of London with Eve in tow, Villanelle spotted the perfect location for them to lay low for the evening. She was annoyed that their circumstances forced her to steer Eve through the doors of this dingy, 3-star hotel rather than treat her to top-rate accommodations Villanelle typically stayed at for her international adventures.

Once inside, Eve seemed oblivious to the overtly floral faded wallpaper, stained frayed carpets, and the many touristy photos of London collecting dust in their cheap plastic frames. Villanelle did her best not to exit the premise out of disgust and reminded herself they were there out of necessity to remain inconspicuous from the eyes of the Twelve. As they headed towards the reception desk, Villanelle made a mental note to rectify this in the future by giving Eve the 5-star treatment she deserved once they were no longer in immediate danger.

The mousey receptionist donned her best customer service smile and greeted them with overtly fake enthusiasm, “Cheerio ladies! What may I help you with on this fine evening?” Villanelle returned the woman’s fake smile and answered in her own overly enthusiastic American accent, “Oh wow, cheerio! That’s a fun phrase isn’t it babe?” She nudged Eve playfully in the shoulder as she spoke; Eve picked up on Villanelle’s act and nodded in agreement. “We’ve had such a busy day exploring this charming town and could really use some help getting a room to crash in for tonight. Could you help us set something up?”

“I would love to help you with that!” The receptionist typed furiously on the desk computer and clicked her mouse a few times before replying, “According to our system, we have 2 singles available on the 4th floor.”

Villanelle grinned mischievously while intertwining the fingers of her right hand with Eve’s left on top of the counter, “Just looking for _one_ room for the night big enough for two.” The mousey woman’s cheeks flushed immediately at her mistake and she quickly diverted her eyes back to her computer screen. After a few more frantic clicks and keystrokes, she rattled off all the available double rooms in existence at the hotel. Villanelle stopped her when she heard the phrase _executive suite_.

“Yes, that one sounds perfect! We’ll take it.” After sliding over a thick wad of cash to cover the room, the receptionist excused herself to collect their key and bill from the printer in the adjacent office since the “bloody one out here is on the fritz again”.

The very second the girl was out of sight, Eve violently shook her hand free from Villanelle’s grasp and practically shouted, “The executive suite?!”

Villanelle was momentarily stunned at Eve’s outburst, but she managed to quickly compose herself before stating matter of factly.

“It’s not like we have jobs or income, Eve. A single room made the most economic sense.”

The older woman glared at her and let out an exacerbated sigh before continuing.

“Just because you used to make the most money in this relationship doesn’t mean you’re automatically in charge of the money.”

Her heart fluttered at Eve’s choice of words. She couldn’t help the cocky grin from spreading across her face nor could she resist taking a step into the brunette’s personal space.

“So, you admit it, we are in a relationship.”

A creeping blush spread across Eve’s face and her eyes slowly lowered and fixated on Villanelle’s lips. 

“Shut up.”

Emboldened by Eve’s behavior, Villanelle took another step effectively pinning the flustered brunette in between her body and the desk. She placed both arms on the counter along opposite sides of Eve’s body and purred in a seductive tone, “Why don’t you make me?”

She could feel Eve’s body heat radiating off of her and instantly became transfixed by Eve’s darkened pupils. She felt herself gravitating even closer to Eve; her neck craning with the intent of kissing her senseless.

“Ahem”

Villanelle glared over Eve’s shoulder towards the direction of the offending sound only to discover the annoying hotel employee had returned.

“Um, here’s your key and receipt.” The nuisance stammered, “Your room is on the top floor straight off the elevator. Ch-cheerio!” After Villanelle snatched the key and bill, the girl scurried away avoiding eye contact as she b-lined for the office she emerged from.

Villanelle triumphantly dangled the key from her finger, shoved the copy of the bill in her pocket, and backed away from Eve. She playfully offered her elbow for the older woman to take, “Shall we take this upstairs?” The older woman seemed to physically shake herself out of a daze before locking arms with her and heading for the elevator.

They rode the elevator in comfortable silence. Eve pressed into Villanelle’s side and did her best to stifle her yawning during their assent. Once the elevated doors opened at the top floor, Villanelle carefully ushered a sleepy Eve to their final destination.

They entered the suite: no baggage, no plan, just the two of them.

Villanelle took a moment to survey the room after locking the door behind them.

She ran her index finger along the dresser as she circled the perimeter. After rubbing the dust off with her thumb, she perused the mini bar only to discover a disappointing selection of tiny off-brand liquor bottles and a small bottle of cheap champagne. Villanelle closed the door with a huff.

The small panoramic view of London from their one, medium sized window gave her a moment of pause. There was once a time in her life when looking down upon a foreign city made her feel larger than life. Traveling across the world was one of the aspects of her career she enjoyed the most; but now, it just felt different. After returning from Russia, she came to the realization that she never really had a home. This never bothered her, until she met Eve.

Even though Villanelle knew Eve was like her, she could also tell that they had their differences. Namely, Eve was able to have a home and live a seemingly normal life which is something she desperately wanted but was never within her grasp. As she gazed across the skyline, she wondered if this was her chance to finally have a normal life and set up a home somewhere in the world. Hopefully, with Eve.

She finished her inspection of the room by plopping on the bed; bouncing a few times to test the firmness of the mattress, fluffing the pillows, and scanning the bedding for mysterious stains.

“Not my first choice for a romantic getaway but it will be a safe place to stay for a night. The Twelve would _never_ think to look for me here.”

It was then Villanelle realized Eve hadn’t moved away from the door.

“Eve, are you ok?”

The older woman’s breathing appeared rapid and her eyes were shifting nervously around the room. Villanelle took this as a queue to get off the bed and approach Eve.

“Are you scared?”

Eve remained silent and Villanelle could see her trembling as she drew nearer. She felt a plunging sensation in her chest at the possibility…

“Are you scared of me?”

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not scared of you.” Eve answered immediately.

Relief washed over Villanelle. She playfully cocked one eyebrow and responded with all the seriousness she could muster. “I can be very scary, Eve.”

Eve let out a hearty laugh. Villanelle drew even closer, but the brunette still seemed a bit on-edge despite visibly releasing some tension from her lighthearted joke.

“It’s just… _this_ ,” Eve frantically motioned her hand between the two of them, “is very new for me.”

Then it clicked. “Oh…”

“Yeah,” Eve uttered anxiously, “so not only do I have no clue what to do in this situation,” and gestured wildly towards the king-sized bed, “I am also very much _not_ in control of my emotions when I’m around you. It’s driving me crazy!’

“Shh, Eve it’s ok.” Villanelle crossed the threshold into Eve’s personal space and engulfed her in a hug. She rocked the older woman gently as she spoke.

“We are doing these new things together, right?”

Villanelle could feel Eve nodding “Yes” against her shoulder.

“This is something new, Eve. It doesn’t have to be crazy or scary. We can leave the monsters out of this… for now. Could be fun to let them play later though.”

Eve let out a sigh as she broke free from Villanelle’s embrace to properly glare at her. As much as Villanelle found Eve’s faux annoyance endearing, she wanted to ensure Eve felt more comfortable about their relationship.

“Seriously, you take the lead on this and take as much time as you need.”

She must have said the right thing because Eve planted a chaste kiss on her cheek causing a pleasant warmth to spread throughout her body from the contact. After Eve finally relaxed enough to leave the doorway, they agreed to save the rest of their heavy conversations and life planning for the morning seeing as it was getting late and Eve really was exhausted from their eventful day.

Villanelle found a pair of white terry cloth robes with the hotel name embroidered on them stashed away in the closet. They decided to use them substitute pajamas in light of having no other clothing options aside from the outfits they arrived in. Villanelle slipped into hers while Eve was freshening up in the bathroom.

When it was her turn in the bathroom, she could feel Eve’s eyes on her while she was finishing her final touches in front of the mirror.

“Are you enjoying the view?” Villanelle swiveled her head and spotted Eve staring at her through the open bathroom door while sitting up in bed.

The brunette grinned sheepishly, “Sorry, I’ve just always been curious what your nighttime routine was and now I get to see it for myself.”

Villanelle switched off the bathroom light and used the moonlight streaming in through the broken blinds to guide her to the bed. She tucked herself in beside Eve. Both women lied down flat on their backs staring at the ceiling until Eve broke the silence.

“What else do you normally do before you go to sleep?”

“I spend most nights alone, so I usually masturbate or find someone else to have sex with to make the night less boring before bed… It’s less lonely that way. Afterwards I usually watch a movie or think about you until I fall asleep.”

Villanelle could feel Eve shifting on the bed and once again felt the sensation of being watched.

“Do you still think about me while you masturbate?”

Villanelle turned to lie on her side to face Eve. Her eyes lit up enthusiastically. “Yes, all of the time. Especially after you kissed me on the bus.”

She could make out a smile forming on the side of Eve’s face as she seemed pleased with this information. Villanelle became curious herself and couldn’t help but ask, “Do you masturbate about me before you fall asleep?”

“No, I’ve never done anything by myself like that before.” Eve answered, seemingly embarrassed.

“Reeeaaally? The moustache was sooo good at pleasing you then? Ha! You are very funny.”

“Not exactly, I’ve just never explored myself like that. I used to think about you a lot during sex with Niko though.”

Villanelle was thrilled by this admission, “So you did masturbate about me, just not by yourself.”

“Huh, I guess I did.”

They shared a quick laugh together. The sound of Eve’s laughter made Villanelle’s heart skip a beat. She made a promise to herself to try to make Eve laugh as much as she possibly could so that she could continue to hear that angelic sound.

“It sounds to me like you just haven’t had the right person explore your body.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! You deserve to be worshipped. Every inch of you touched and treasured.”

Villanelle basked in this rare moment of uninterrupted intimacy and allowed herself to indulge in admiring the older woman’s beauty. Her precious curly locks were loose and framing her face, it took everything in Villanelle’s power not to run her hands through the wild mane. The long expanse of her neck was calling out to be peppered with kisses and the tantalizing hint of collarbones were begging to be nibbled on. She couldn’t help her gaze from traveling down the plunging line of the brunette’s robe and rest upon the circular scar on Eve’s chest… her scar.

“Can I see yours?” Eve muttered breathlessly breaking Villanelle from her reverie.

As requested, she slowly untied the robe and opened it just enough for Eve to see the scar on her abdomen.

Eve looked reverently and reached out her index finger to gently caress the thin pale line of skin; Villanelle could barely contain the low moan forming in the back of her throat at the sensation.

“I’m sorry I almost killed you.” Eve whispered; her eyes filled with emotions Villanelle couldn’t quite pin down.

Villanelle finally gave in and reached out to trace Eve’s scar. The edges felt rough and yet the skin towards the center felt tender, as if the mark was transitioning from newly formed entity to permanent fixture. She felt no remorse for inflicting this symbol of shared darkness upon Eve’s body, but she did feel something akin to remorse for putting Eve’s life in danger and deep down she knew Eve felt the same way.

“I’m sorry too.”

Villanelle retracted her hand and allowed Eve to continue exploring at her own pace. The older woman ran her fingers along her scar and adventured to the surrounding skin of her lower torso. Every scratch and caress left Villanelle’s skin burning in its wake. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to the overwhelming feelings Eve could invoke with something as simple as a flick of her finger or a few kind words.

This was a novel concept for Villanelle. Prior to Eve, all of her moments of intimacy were sought out of need to break the incessant monotony of her existence. Sex was a transactional conquest in which she broke up moments of boredom to feel in complete control over another person and that other person walked away feeling absolute euphoria. Simply remaining in Eve’s presence caused the opposite effect. She never felt less in control, but the trade-offs were all consuming emotions and the absolute absence of boredom.

“You know, you’re not the only one.” Villanelle admitted honestly, looking deeply into Eve’s eyes. “I can’t control my feelings when I’m with you either.”

Eve was clearly pleased with her admission; a warm and endearing smile spread across the brunette’s face and she proceeded to bend down and initiate a tender kiss causing Villanelle’s insides to perform emotional summersaults. After breaking the kiss, Eve scooted her pillow next to Villanelle’s then laid her head down and wrapped her arm around Villanelle’s waist to snuggle next to her.

“Sweet dreams, Villanelle”

Villanelle rested her head against Eve’s contently and wrapped her arm around Eve to hold her closer.

“Goodnight, Eve.”

_Don't go wasting your emotion_

_Lay all your love on me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to all of those that reached out to me about this story. I’m thrilled to hear you are enjoying it so far!
> 
> I promise there will be steamy Villaneve content in the next chapter. I just really felt like they needed to work through some bigger emotional barriers first since they have had so few opportunities to honestly talk to each other about how they feel.


	3. 3 Days Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve and Villanelle figure out their lives on the run and take a new step in their relationship.
> 
> Eve’s POV

Song Inspiration – Dress by Taylor Swift

_All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation_

_My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah)_

_All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting_

_My hands are shaking from holding back from all this (ha, ha, ha, ha)_

** 3 Days Later **

[Amsterdam, Netherlands]

After finishing crunching the last of the numbers, Eve took a moment to try and shake off her anxiety as the reality of their situation weighed down on her.

They are running on borrowed time. Sooner or later, the Twelve will catch wind of their activity.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing in an attempt to mediate like Elena used to encourage her to do during particularly frustrating days at MI5 dealing with Frank.

 _Take a deep breath…_

_One, two, three, four._

_Exhale…_

_One, two, three, four._

_This is bullshit._

Frustrated with her inability attain instant peace, she decided to distract herself by taking in her surroundings. She gazed down from their table on the second-floor balcony of the café to watch the locals and tourists go about their day. She thought she should feel a touch of envy for the simplicity of their lives; just milling about trying to make a living selling stroopwafels along the canal or leisurely eating a stroopwafel in this charming part of the world just for the fun of it.

Truth be told, she didn’t feel anything remotely close to envy. Despite blowing up her life to run away from her problems with an ex-international assassin, she never felt more alive.

Perhaps it was the unknown of a life on the run she found so thrilling. Maybe, it was the drop-dead gorgeous woman she was running with.

It was most definitely some combination of the two.

While Eve was thankful for her charming companion’s skills of evading boarder security and habit of carrying a tremendous amount of cash on her person, she knew they couldn’t keep up this lifestyle forever. Which is why she was taking advantage of the lack of lunch time rush and temporary peacefulness at the café to draft a budget for the two of them with their existing funds.

They had both decided it would be in their best interests to get out of London for the time being; but figuring out a way to start their lives over in a foreign land where they couldn’t use any form of legal documentation in order to avoid altering an international crime syndicate was proving to be quite the pain in her ass.

Eve was broken from the abyss of her own thoughts by the clattering of dinnerware announcing Villanelle’s arrival with their lunch. The blonde was radiating pure joy as she proudly placed many plates of food all around the table.

They discovered early on that it was pointless to order their own meals as Villanelle would _always_ pick off of Eve’s plate which in turn would mean Eve _had_ to eat half of Villanelle’s meal in retaliation. So, they settled on ordering multiple items at a time with the understanding that they would share.

Eve had no idea what any of the food was that she was about to consume, but she trusted Villanelle’s taste and knew she wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Eet smakelijk!” Villanelle exclaimed before unceremoniously digging into the assortment of fried oblong and ball shaped delicacies. Eve smiled as she watched the younger woman gleefully chow down. She loved to secretly, or not so secretly, watch Villanelle dine. It brought her a tremendous amount of comfort to witness how happy and carefree the younger woman seemed when she was eating.

She eventually tore her eyes from the adorable blonde to choose her lunch from among the spread. She settled on eating half of the cheese sandwich along with the scrumptious green pea soup and made sure to avoid the bread with sprinkles she noticed Villanelle eyeing out throughout the meal.

“Do you like the erwtensoep and broodje kaas?” Villanelle mumbled with a mouthful of food.

“Uh, yes everything is delicious. Thank you for ordering for us.” Eve made a mental note to remember the words “erwtensoep and broodje kaas” since she was enjoying what she picked.

“I learned the hard way what to eat and what not to eat in Amsterdam.” Villanelle stated right before slurping down a spoonful of soup.

Eve happily replied, “I’m glad to be the beneficiary of your worldly travels.”

Villanelle smiled proudly and squeezed Eve’s hand across the table.

They spent the remainder of their meal basking in each other’s company and poking fun at tourist below. After consuming the majority of the food, they each sipped black coffee while Eve worked up the nerve to broach the topic of their financial situation.

“I managed to work out the numbers and realistically, we could survive on the money we have for a few weeks or months,” Eve paused eyeing Villanelle carefully as she folded the sprinkle sandwich in half, “if you agree to stick to the budget, that is.”

Villanelle tilted the folded sandwich and took a big bite; with her mouth full and sprinkles pouring out the back end of the sandwich, she seriously replied. “I can be very responsible. Look! I even waited until after lunch to eat the Hagelslag.”

Eve was tickled by Villanelle’s argument. “So, you did. If you and I decided to be even more responsible and found a way to pick up odd jobs, we could survive on our own for a lot longer.”

“What kind of _odd jobs_?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” She ran her fingers absent mindedly through her hair as she contemplated. “It would have to be the type of work that didn’t require any type of identification papers; something that paid off the books like busking tables or walking dogs.”

Villanelle grimaced. “I don’t like odd jobs. The last time I was here, I did really boring jobs for Konstantin.”

This disclosure got the better of Eve’s curiosity, “Was this when you were free lancing?”

“Yes, I don’t want to do that work anymore. Especially not here. Too many painful memories.” Villanelle’s grimace shifted to a pitiful looking expression that reminded Eve of a sad puppy.

“What happened?” Eve asked, her voice conveying her concern.

“You see there was this very sexy MI6 agent that was super obsessed with me,” Eve felt every millisecond of Villanelle looking up and down her body as she spoke. “but she was playing very hard to get and ignoring me. So, I took a very booorrring job and made it fun hoping she would appreciate it so much that she would come and see for it herself… but she never did.”

“Carolyn assigned another agent to come investigate that crime scene. She had me focusing heavily on the Ghost and wouldn’t let me leave London even when I told her I had a gut feeling it was you.”

“Shame. I was very heartbroken when you stood me up, even after I sent you a sweet postcard to let you know I was thinking about you the whole time.”

“Wait, what postcard?”

“You never received it? Huh...” Villanelle’s eyes widened as if she was having an epiphany, “Sounds like a kinky, sneaky person stole our love letter. Maybe it was your boss?”

“You really think Carolyn had nothing better to than intercept mail to keep us from communicating?”

“Or make us even more excited than usual when we finally saw each other.”

Eve furrowed her brow as she took a moment to reflect on the possibility that her boss was reading into what was developing between her and Villanelle and twisted it for her own agenda.

_If that was Carolyn’s intention, she’s an evil genius that deserved to run the world._

“But how could she know that was going to work?”

Villanelle cocked her eyebrow slyly, “I get the feeling Carolyn knows a thing or two about sweeping women off their feet.”

“You’re probably right, I wouldn’t put anything past her. Too bad I don’t work for her anymore. She could help us get fool proof papers so would could avoid doing odd jobs to stay alive.”

“Maybe boring jobs will be a good change for us. I just-” tears began to well in Villanelle’s eyes. Eve could sense she was thinking about her former assignments as an assassin which recently filled the younger woman with inexplicable sadness. Eve knew better than to push her on this topic and willingly gave her the space to talk about it when she was ready.

“I know, it’s ok.” Eve finished for her. She reached across the table and interlocked her fingers with Villanelle’s to comfort her. Eve witnessed the younger woman’s demeanor morph from despair to jubilee. The tears that threatened to fall retreated as she squeezed Eve’s hand.

“It’s a shame you never saw that one though. I really think you would have enjoyed it.”

Eve admitted honestly, “I _really_ wanted to.”

Villanelle seemed nervous as she asked, “If you like I could show you something similar, maybe tonight?”

“Sounds like a date.” Eve responded with the biggest smile on her face.

After lunch, they parted ways both woman agreeing to visit different local thrift stores to shop for outfits seeing as their wardrobes were scarce at the moment. Villanelle had a few simple requests for her to abide by, “purchase something to keep your neck warm but absolutely _no_ turtlenecks.”

After several hours of indecision, Eve eventually settled on a strapless red dress which forced her to not wear a bra, pushing Eve further out of her comfort zone. She paired this ensemble with simple black pumps, a tasteful long white peacoat, and puffy, black infinity scarf with white polka dots.

Later that evening, Eve was frantically pacing their hotel room and failing miserably at mentally psyching herself for this evening. She couldn’t help feeling like an absolute wreck and tried not to dwell too much on the fact that her most recent first date was well over a decade ago.

She paused in front of the mirror and critically evaluated her appearance for the millionth time.

_I can do this. It’s just a date. I can date!_

_It’s eating food while looking sexy and acting charming._

_What if she doesn’t find me sexy in this outfit?_

_What if she doesn’t think I’m charming anymore?_

_No, that’s crazy! She is super into me and I can charm the clothes off of her!_

_Oh god, what if I charm the clothes off of her…_

Neither Eve nor Villanelle had a moment of peace since fleeing London; but now that things have settled down, Eve couldn’t stop thinking about getting more physically intimate with Villanelle. It terrified and excited her.

It wasn’t that the concept of having sex with a woman was that big of a deal, although she truly had no clue what she was doing in that department and that was scary. The bigger hurdle was this wasn’t just any woman, it was Villanelle.

Crossing _that_ barrier with this particular person _was_ a big deal.

Eve knew, for better or for worse, their relationship would change after they crossed that line.

She was broken from her internal crisis of self by a few rapid knocks at the door.

Eve opened the door and the sight she beheld washed away all her negative thoughts instantaneously and replaced them with a flushing sensation that spread throughout her entire body.

Villanelle was leaning casually against the door frame with a smile of pure bliss that made Eve feel weak at the knees. Her choice in attire was making Eve seriously consider the whole charming her clothes off thing.

Villanelle was wearing a stunning black tuxedo jacket with matching slacks and white button-down shirt. Her hair was tied back in her signature bun and atop her head sat a light grey fedora tilted to the side that was adorned with a simple red feather.

After a moment of mutual drooling over each other in the hallway, the pair set off into the night.

Villanelle took her to dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant a few blocks from where they were staying. It must have been the type of establishment that was frequently visited by locals since Eve did not hear a word of English outside of her conversation with her date.

It felt like they were in their own little bubble.

Eve treated herself to some wine, for a little liquid courage, while they sampled more delicious local delicacies that Eve couldn’t name and chatted pleasantly with one another. She caught Villanelle stealing glances at her throughout their dinner just as she was trying to steal glances of her own.

Afterwards, they went on a stroll along the street hand in hand. Eventually, much to Eve’s bewilderment, they arrived at the Rijksmuseum.

“I thought you killed him in the Red-Light district?”

“Awww, you do remember! I did, but I wasn’t going to recreate the murder for you. Cold turkey, remember? I thought I could show you my inspiration and the picture on your love note instead.”

Villanelle took the liberty of adjusting Eve’s scarf and purposefully angling her own cap to obscure their faces.

“There are going to be many cameras inside. We need to be careful so that we are not recognized. Stay close to me and I’ll keep us safe.” Eve nodded eagerly in agreement.

She was planning on doing that anyway.

The museum was open later than usual for the donors in order to show off a new exhibition that just arrived. Somehow, Villanelle managed to get them access to the private viewing.

Once inside, the blonde guided her slowly past the new instillations and into the back of the gallery towards a particularly gruesome painting.

As she gazed at the painting, she felt Villanelle press up against her back. Her arms snaked around her waist and she rested her head on Eve’s shoulder all the while keeping her head tilted at a particular angle to obstruct the view of the camera in the corner of the room.

“It’s called The Corpses of the De Witt Brothers,” Villanelle whispered in her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down Eve’s spine. “What do you think of it?”

Eve intensely studied the work of art. She was amazed with the similarity between the disemboweled men on the canvas and the images Jess showed her of Villanelle’s vibrant murder in this very city. For as long as she lived, Eve would never get over how artful Villanelle was with her work and would forever be flattered by the extra lengths she would go through just to flirt with her.

Eve overlapped her hands over Villanelle’s arms as she responded, her voice huskier than usual in the dark and quiet corner of the museum. “I think it’s brilliant.” She tilted her head so she could look into the younger woman’s eyes as she continued, “I think _you_ are brilliant.”

Villanelle bashfully smiled at the compliment. Eve just couldn’t restrain herself any longer; she lowered her scarf just enough to allow herself to properly kiss her date. After reluctantly breaking away, Eve summoned the remainder of her liquid courage to whisper enticingly along the shell of the blonde’s ear.

“Would you like to get out of here?”

A blank look momentarily passed over the younger woman’s face which was quickly replaced by a knowing stare after Eve raised her eyebrows suggestively.

They practically ran back to their hotel room and the instant they crossed the threshold; Eve pressed her hot date against the door and made out with her furiously. They quickly became a furry of lips entangling, feet kicking off shoes, and hands frantically groping and removing jackets.

Eve started to feel more vulnerable with every layer of clothing that was shed. Soon, she felt her nerves get the better of her.

“How.. did.. you do it?” Eve panted in between kisses, “Tell me.. how did… you create.. that masterpiece.. for me?”

Villanelle finally let up her relentless attack on Eve’s mouth while keeping her body flush against Eve’s. She lowered her voice an octave and purred in a seductive tone that made Eve’s skin crawl with anticipation.

“First, I lured my mark to a private room.”

Eve felt the young woman’s body press into her further while the strong hands on her waist slowly guided her backwards and with each step they moved farther into the room.

“Then he willingly took off his clothes.”

The blonde began to slowly unzip the back of her dress while Eve desperately fumbled for the buttons of Villanelle’s shirt and unbuttoned the ones she could grasp with shaky hands. Thankfully, Villanelle stepped in to help her by swiftly tossing her hat, removing her shirt and shimming off her slacks.

Once she removed her white lacey bra and matching panties, Villanelle unzipped the last bit of Eve’s dress. She felt the fabric slide down her body and pool at her feet. As the young woman took her time raking over Eve’s body with hungry eyes, she playfully removed Eve’s scarf and placed it around her own neck.

Eve barely registered the scarf coming off.

She was completely transfixed by Villanelle’s newly exposed skin. She itched to touch every surface of her perfect figure from her mane of silky golden locks, down her long expansive neck, through the crevasse of her breasts, down her tight stomach, all the way to her-

Before she could finish that particular thought, Villanelle’s lips were back on hers and Eve felt herself being ushered backwards until backs of her knees hit the bed. Villanelle broke their kiss long enough to continue her vivid recollection.

“He laid down.”

The younger woman pushed her down on the mattress and she quickly scooted towards the middle of the bed so she could fully lie down. Villanelle promptly joined by straddling her waist.

Eve became more flustered by the second as Villanelle hovered over her, clearly taking pleasure in Eve’s reactions and lack of clothing. The blonde took her sweet time teasing the insides of her palms before suddenly grabbing hold of both of her wrists. She proceeded to pin Eve’s arms together above her head with one hand while she seductively slid the scarf off from around her neck with the other.

The younger woman grinned triumphantly.

Eve felt warm fabric engulf her wrists.

“Then I tied him up.”

She felt the scarf fully tightened as the blonde uttered the last syllable effectively immobilizing Eve’s arms above her head with a little help from the headboard of the bed.

She felt Villanelle leave a trail of kisses along her neck and traveling further down her body. After pecking the scar on her chest, Villanelle paused to look deeply into her eyes as if she was checking to make sure this was really happening. Eve noticed her pupils were darker than usual and she seemed to be as utterly consumed by this moment as Eve was.

Then, the blonde ran her free hands down Eve’s arms and continued roaming lower and lower down her body before finally settling her hands on her hips while hooking two fingers underneath the waistband of her panties.

Without a word, Villanelle captured Eve’s lips in a passionate kiss and easily slipped her tongue into Eve’s mouth. As Eve became overwhelmed by the sensation of Villanelle’s tongue fighting hers for dominance and the blissful feeling of the younger woman’s soft bare skin against her body, Villanelle slipped off Eve’s last remaining undergarment.

Eve was glad Villanelle was taking control of this situation, but she was quickly becoming impatient.

She wanted more.

She broke their kiss and panted, “What did you do next?”

Villanelle shifted her position on top of Eve by slipping her thigh between Eve’s legs; eliciting a deep moan as she pressed her leg into Eve’s center.

“The best part was next.” 

The blonde lowered her body and repositioned herself until she was fully on top of Eve. She supported her body weight by leaning on one arm while she slipped the other between Eve’s legs. Soon, Eve felt the hand at her center, rubbing circles around her clit while Villanelle’s mouth latched on to her neck.

Sucking, biting, kissing. Eve never felt so turned on in her entire life.

“This was the moment I was dreaming about for such a long time.” Villanelle growled in her ear.

Eve could feel wetness readily pooling in between her thighs with each sensation. She desperately moved underneath Villanelle in an attempt to maintain contact with Villanelle’s body as she continued maneuvering and teasing her from above.

At some point during her writhing, she involuntarily lifted her thigh that was positioned in between Villanelle’s legs causing a feral moan to escape the young woman’s lips at the contact. She continued to rock her hips against Eve’s leg as she continued.

“I took my knife,” Eve felt the circling stop. “and sloooowly,” she moaned loudly, “stuck it in.”

Villanelle groaned along with glee. She seemed to be taking as much enjoyment in this moment as much as Eve was. The blonde started a slow rhythm and Eve could feel the pressure building up quickly inside of her with every tantalizing thrust.

“I kept sliding it further inside his body..”

Eve felt an added pressure as Villanelle inserted an extra finger and quickened the pace. Both of their breathing became ragged. Eve rocked her hips uncontrollably against Villanelle’s hand while Villanelle’s own movements became more erratic as she continued grinding on Eve’s thigh.

The blonde kissed her roughly as she resumed her previous circling with the palm of her hand in between strokes. Eve broke the kiss and weakly whimpered, “Vill.. ”

Her eyes rolled towards the back of her head as her back arched off the bed as she felt the shock waves of pleasure ripple through her body.

“Until he was finished.”

Villanelle managed to get out in a strangled moan, writhing above Eve in ecstasy as she hit her climax as well. After coming down from their highs together, Villanelle untied Eve’s wrists granting her free range of motion.

Eve mirrored the blonde’s position by lying on her side and gazing affectionally at the ethereal woman who just gave her the feeling of pure euphoria for the first time in her life.

With her hands finally free, she reached out and ran her fingers absent mindedly along Villanelle’s skin. She quickly noticed Villanelle was staring at her more intensely than usual as if she were trying her best to read Eve’s thoughts and figure out how she was feeling. With a smile on her face, Eve let her know.

“That was the most incredible, mind-blowing _story_ I have ever heard in my life.”

Villanelle’s eyes softened after hearing Eve’s confession and a small playful smile formed out of the corner of her mouth.

“I am a very good storyteller and I have sooo many more _stories_ I want to tell you.”

“Hmmm, you really are.” Eve hummed contently while settling her hand on Villanelle’s waist and dropping her gaze to her lips. “I’m going to have to pay close attention so I can learn how to tell you a _story_ or two of my own.”

Villanelle scooted closer to Eve and lowered her gaze as well.

“Well, I guess that means I’ll have to tell you another _story_ before we go to sleep.”

Just before grazing Villanelle’s lips with her own, Eve whispered, “I’m listening…”

_Say my name and everything just stops_

_I don't want you like a best friend_

_Only bought this dress so you could take it off_

_Take it off (ha, ha, ha)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a huge thank you to everyone who has left comments with kind words and kudos on this story! I absolutely love to hear from you.
> 
> Originally this chapter was supposed to have plot things happen, but by the time this section was done it was already approaching 4k words. So enjoy this last bit of plot free content. Things will pick up going forward!


	4. 1 Day and 1 Second Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve and Villanelle can’t run far enough away from the plot.
> 
> Eve’s and Carolyn’s POV
> 
> Of note, all time stamps are in relation to the prior chapter

Song Inspiration – Ashes of Eden by Breaking Benjamin

_Will the darkness fall upon me_

_When the air is growing thin_

_Will the light begin to pull me_

_To its everlasting will_

** 1 Day Later **

[Amsterdam, Netherlands]

Eve took a moment to stretch, feeling wonderfully sore in all the right places, before wrapping a towel securely around her body and finally emerging from the shower. She would have finished cleaning up much sooner in the day, but a certain someone insisted on joining her and well, one thing lead to another.

She just couldn’t help herself and frankly, she didn’t care to.

Eve felt like a smitten teenager that was and having a really difficult time keeping her hands off of her crush and having an even tougher time not craving every single touch by said crush.

Crush wasn’t a strong enough word for what Villanelle was.

In the light of dusk, Eve shook out her damp curls and focused her efforts on making herself presentable enough to leave their room for the first time that day, or rather that evening.

Within a matter of minutes, her mind wandered back to the events of last night, this morning, and afternoon.

As she mentally replayed the last 20 minutes in the shower, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist. A giddy smile spread across her face as she melted into the embrace. Her body tingling as Villanelle peppered teasing kisses along her neck.

“Are you _sure_ we have to leave?” Villanelle whined in protest.

“Yes,” Hummed Eve, trying her best to convince the younger woman. “We need to get supplies, so we don’t starve. I promise we will come right back.”

Villanelle gently spun Eve around so that they were face to face, “I disagree.” She felt long, slender fingers roam further down her body as Villanelle’s pout morphed into a devilish grin while she continued to tease Eve. “I think we have everything we need right here.”

“You’re insatiable.”

Villanelle initiated a languished kiss as if she was purposefully trying to derail her train of thought.

It worked.

She was instantly overcome by the sensations of Villanelle’s sweeping lips and exploring tongue. Her body humming to life as strong hands removed her towel and began freely wandering along her newly exposed skin. Desperate for more, Eve promptly ripped off Villanelle’s robe so she could feel her warm, tantilizing skin against her body.

Without breaking the kiss, Villanelle gently hoisted Eve onto the bathroom countertop in between the twin sinks. Eve responded by wrapping her legs around Villanelle’s waist and pulling her closer. Desperate for air, Eve momentarily pulled away and managed to get a few coherent words out in between breathes.

“I swear you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Hmm, is that so?” Villanelle purred as she rocked her hips into Eve’s center.

“Yesss.” Eve hissed as she threaded her fingers through luscious blonde locks. “Now shut up and kiss me.” Eve anchored her hands on the back of Villanelle’s neck and pulled her in to reconnect their mouths.

As the smooch became heated, she felt Villanelle unhook her legs and spread them along the counter. Without warning, the younger woman broke away with a delightfully mischievous smirk as Eve instinctively chased her retreating lips. She eagerly stared into lustful, hazel orbs as Villanelle slowly kneeled on the bathroom floor in between her thighs, never breaking eye contact.

“With pleasure.”

Several hours later, Eve managed to drag a fully clothed Villanelle out of the hotel.

The pair set out into the moonlit streets of Amsterdam towards the local market they frequently visited with the agreement to only grab the items they absolutely needed and return promptly to their abode. As they rounded the final corner towards the shop, Eve suddenly felt Villanelle tighten the grip on her arm and forcefully tugged her in opposite direction down an unfamiliar street.

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Someone is following us.”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up from the gravity in the younger woman’s voice.

Eve was about to glance over her shoulder in an attempt to spot their stalker when she felt Villanelle’s hand on her lower back firmly push her forward forcing Eve to quicken her pace.

“Don’t look back.”

She did her best to keep up with Villanelle’s strides as she quickly weaved them through the side streets. Adrenaline coursing through her veins with every step.

Eventually, Villanelle unexpectedly pulled her into an unlit alley and guided her back towards the dead end. She placed a finger over Eve’s mouth with a wild look in her eyes.

“Shhh, don’t move.”

She felt an overwhelming sense of dread as Villanelle swiftly and silently moved back towards the sidewalk. Eve’s heart pounded in her chest as her figure retreated into the shadows.

After an eternity, Eve heard grunting and a violent crashing sound coming from Villanelle’s general direction which she immediately rushed towards without a second’s hesitation. She carefully stepped over a tipped over trash bin and into the part of the alley that was dimly lit by a lone streetlamp.

As she crept closer, she spotted Villanelle pinning a slightly taller man up against the wall. She had her hands clenched in his trench coat and brandished a switch blade against his carotid artery.

The man remained oddly still and seemed composed as the former assassin held him there.

“Don’t move.” Villanelle threatened as she rummaged his pockets with her free hand. She donned a sinister smile as she pulled a pistol out of his pocket and proceeded to rest the barrel against the center of his chest.

“You know, my girlfriend and I were having a pretty pleasant night until you decided to crash our date.”

Eve’s felt her cheeks flush and her insides perform somersaults at Villanelle’s casual use of the word girlfriend.

Villanelle pushed the blade further into his neck causing the man to hiss with pain as she continued, “and I really want to know _why_ you would do such a thing?” 

He let out a menacing chuckle before answering in a thick German accent, “I think you know _why_ I’m here and _who_ sent me.” Eve’s blood ran cold at the realization that the Twelve had managed to track them down so quickly.

“My employer also told me you’ve gone soft.” The man cocked his head to the side and carried on in a condescending tone. “Clearly, she was right, otherwise you would have already killed me.”

Eve watched Villanelle waiver just a moment too long as if she was internally debating her next move. The man took advantage of her indecision by kicking Villanelle hard in the shin. While she was temporarily off balance, he knocked the gun out of her hand, grabbed her by the throat, and forcefully shoved her backwards into the opposite wall of the alley.

Villanelle started to squirm and claw at his arms with one hand while he held her flat against the wall.

Eve managed to squeak out a few words in Villanelle’s defense as she watched on in terror.

“L-let her go.”

Their attacker let out a hearty cackle and without tearing his line of sight from the oxygen deprived Villanelle, he continued his threats loudly enough for Eve to hear, “Just so you know, _you_ are my target.” While the man finished his monologue, Eve quietly picked up the lid of the trash can near her feet and inched closer. “They didn’t specify what I should do with _her_.”

Eve swung with all her might and managed to connect the lid of the trash can to the back of the assassin’s head. The blow was forceful enough to cause him to stumble to the side and release his hold on Villanelle.

After a few seconds, he staggered to his feet with his gaze fully fixated on Eve. She held the lid out in front of her body like a shield and kept her feet firmly rooted in place, bracing herself for the worst.

He took a few wobbly steps towards her and then unexpectedly collapsed to the ground.

Eve cautiously approached, inadvertently stepping in something that felt like liquid. When she looked down towards her feet, she realized she was standing in a pool of blood that appeared to be coming from the man’s leg. Puzzled, she averted her eyes to Villanelle and noticed the younger woman was sitting on the alley floor hunched over, shaking uncontrollably, and clutching a crimson coated blade.

Eve side stepped the body and rushed to Villanelle’s side. She fell to the floor immediately wrapping the blonde in a hug and rocking her gently as the younger woman sobbed in her arms. After a moment, Eve gingerly took the switch blade from Villanelle’s grasp, folded it, and placed it in her coat pocket to properly dispose of at a later time.

She always thought of Villanelle as an unbreakable entity which is why her stomach soured and insides twisted at the sight of her so vulnerable and broken. Eve pulled back just enough to wipe the tears from her eyes and as she was doing so, she observed a lost look in the younger woman’s eyes as if she were retreating into the dark recesses of her mind becoming trapped in whatever horror lived there.

Eve was overcome with compelling need to pull her from the darkness before it was too late.

“Shhh, it’s ok. I’ve got you. You’re not alone.”

She planted chaste kisses on Villanelle’s cheeks and played with the loose hairs at the nape of her neck as she spoke soothing words of reassurance. The younger woman seemed to take comfort in this and after a few minutes, Eve could feel the shaking dissipate and the tears cease to fall.

She still did not understand who or what had afflicted this much pain upon Villanelle. It has been bothering her more with every passing day to be kept in the dark from this monumental event. She wanted Villanelle to feel comfortable enough to tell her in her own time rather than force her to relive fresh wounds. Truthfully, Eve was so desperate to know because she wanted to prevent Villanelle from becoming triggered and spare her from this torment.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a very broken sounding, “Eve…”

“You’re ok, baby. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat in silence for a moment longer before Eve coaxed Villanelle back into reality.

“I’m sorry but we have to get out of here before someone notices what happened. Can you do that for me?”

Villanelle nodded against her shoulder.

Eve helped her up off the ground and the two of them did their best to hide the body out of sight by shoving the corpse into the now empty, fairly human sized trash receptacle in the back corner of the alley.

After they disposed of the body, Eve carefully wiped the blood off Villanelle’s hands using the cloth on the inside of her parka. With her arm securely around Villanelle’s waist, Eve lead them back to the hotel. Once they were safely inside, she drew Villanelle a warm bath and helped her undress in the bathroom.

She let out a long exhale which Eve hoped was relief as she submerged her body in the tepid water.

Eve did her best to encourage her to relax by rubbing soothing circles along her back and placing gentle pecks on her temples. She felt a wave of relief pass through her as a tiny spark of life returned to Villanelle’s eyes as she picked up the foamy loofah. Eve took this as reassurance that Villanelle was feeling well enough to be temporarily left to her own devices.

“I’ll be right back baby,” she gently cooed. “there’s something I need to take care of.”

Eve placed one last kiss on Villanelle’s forehead before excusing herself from the bathroom leaving the younger woman to clean herself off.

Once the bathroom door was fully closed, she grabbed their burner phone and marched towards the front door with a fierce determination to fix this.

* * *

**1 Second Later **

[London, England]

Carolyn rested her head against the headrest of the driver’s seat as she took as moment to decompress after parking in her driveway. She felt that she deserved a moment of peace after the long and dreadful day of pandering to her collages and feigning to mourn the loss of their comrade Paul who tragically “committed suicide”.

Pretending to hold any semblance of emotion other than distain for her double-crossing former boss was quite the appalling ordeal, but Carolyn has been in this line of work for far too long to let her guard down, even at a funeral. In this case, was even more imperative that she played the part of the distraught co-worker convincingly since she was the direct cause of Paul’s death.

She would be lying to herself if she didn’t feel a touch of sorrow, not for Paul, but rather for her late son as she internally relived the loss of Kenny throughout the day and was coming to terms with acknowledging the role she played in his untimely demise.

For years, Carolyn has managed to successfully separate her work life from her private affairs; but now she felt that line of separation blurring with the death of Kenny and her newly acquired agent Mo. Something about these murders left her with a nagging feeling that these events were more personal than professional in nature.

The silver lining in all of this was Carolyn’s immediate promotion to her former position as the head of the MI6 Russia desk due to Paul’s earthly departure.

She worked tirelessly over the past couple of days to re-assemble her department in order to get things up and running again. Part of her renovations involved assembling a brand-new team of agents, in the event that any of the current employees hired by Paul were also colluding with the Twelve.

Unable to shake her feelings of paranoia, Carolyn felt compelled to surround herself with people she could count on, which is why she began her recruiting efforts by contacting former employees she trusted. She already convinced Elena to join the team after agreeing to grant her request for a hefty raise and seven additional days off per year and was in process of negotiating new terms of employment with Hugo that involved less demand for impromptu field work. Unfortunately, Jess respectfully declined as she was currently doing well working in a new department focused on affairs in the Middle East.

Carolyn exited the car once she was more relaxed and headed for the entrance of her abode with her keys in hand. As she twisted the inserted the key to unlock the front door, she felt her phone vibrating in the side pocket of her long coat.

She quickly retrieved the device and upon inspection discovered she had an incoming call from an unknown number. Against her better judgement, she answered the phone and held it up to her ear while remaining completely silent. After a few seconds, she heard a familiar, distressed voice.

“Hello… Carolyn are you there?”

“Eve?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

Carolyn proceeded to cross the threshold into her home as the initial shock of hearing Eve’s voice wore off. She switched on the hall lights and tossed her coat over the back of the couch while continuing her curious conversation with the ex-MI6 agent.

“Why on earth are you calling me?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

Carolyn decided she was going to need a proper drink for this discussion and immediately b-lined for the kitchen.

“Oh really? I already declined Villanelle’s offer to not kill anyone in exchange to dine at MI6, what could you two possib-“

“Leave her out of this.” Eve growled, effectively cutting her off mid-sentence, “This is just between you and me.”

Eve’s sudden outburst of protectiveness peaked Carolyn’s interest so much that she physically stopped dead in her tracks. She had never heard Eve willingly leave Villanelle out of _any_ conversation before and was intrigued to know the true purpose of this phone call.

“Is it? What exactly are you proposing, then?”

Carolyn resumed her previous trajectory into the kitchen, turned on the light, and headed straight for the Tanqueray sitting on the far counter. She poured a healthy amount of the gin into a highball glass and added a splash of tonic water as Eve continued her desperate plea.

“I know you find me valuable and you have the power to give me something I need in return. Which is why I’d like to make a deal with you. My research skills and ability to connect dots that no one else can in exchange for witness protection for myself and Villanelle; new identities, fool proof papers, all of it. Under this arrangement, I will be at your mercy and do whatever you want fully off the record with no questions asked.”

Carolyn took a few seconds to thoroughly ponder this. Truth of the matter is, they just don’t make agents like they used to and despite Eve’s faults, she could prove to be an incredibly useful asset to her new team. She would also have leverage to keep Eve on a tight lease by holding the power to grant and revoke witness protection over her head.

This was proving to be quite the alluring offer.

“Well, now that is a deal worth considering.” She earnestly declared while scanning around the room in search of a lime and silently cursing Geraldine for commandeering all of the fruits and vegetables in the house before vacating the premise.

“Do we have a deal?" Eve prodded with what sounded like a hint of fear in her voice.

“Yes, we have a deal. I’ll contact you in a few days with all the paperwork once the arrangements are made and bring you up to speed with a few of my current investigations.”

“Ok… Thank you. I will talk to you then.” Eve responded seemingly relieved by Carolyn’s answer.

“Take care of yourself, Eve.” She responded with mild concern creeping into her voice.

“You too.”

After the line went dead, Carolyn placed her phone on the counter and ran her fingers through her hair, smiling to herself at this unforeseen bit of luck. She headed for the refrigerator in one last attempt to find some kind of citrus liquid so that she could finish mixing her now celebratory drink.

Upon opening the door, her eyes where immediately drawn to the top shelf of the refrigerator. There sat a single lemon the size of a softball which she tentatively proceeded to pick up.

With a now trembling hand, she felt the weight of the heavy fruit and released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. As she rotated the lemon in her palm, she noticed a pair lips perfectly imprinted with red lipstick on the yellow rind.

She felt her heart pounding in her chest and a cold shiver running down her spine.

Her suspicions were confirmed.

This _was_ personal, much to her excitement and dismay.

_I can hear the voices haunting_

_There is nothing left to fear_

_And I am still calling_

_I am still calling to you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I am just overwhelmed by all of your kind responses to this story and hope you continue to enjoy it as we move into the plot. Please keep reaching out and let me know how you feel about it!
> 
> My goal is to update this at least on a weekly basis.


	5. 20 Years Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolyn recalls a particularly sweltering day in southern Italy that shaped the course of her future.
> 
> Carolyn’s POV
> 
> Of note, all time stamps are in relation to the previous chapter.

Song Inspiration – When You Were Young by The Killers

_We're burning down the highway skyline_

_On the back of a hurricane that started turning_

_When you were young_

_When you were young_

** 20 Years Ago **

[Sorrento, Italia]

“Grazie millie.” Carolyn uttered to the driver in passing as she exited the water taxi stepping onto the shores of Sorrento. She was immediately greeted by a cool breeze coming off the water that was a welcomed refreshment given it was an unusually warm day for that time of year.

Carolyn was thankful she decided to dress in weather appropriate attire that consisted of a low-cut silk hunter green blouse tucked into breathable yet fashionable gray linen slacks. Her stylish loafers made of the finest Italian leather that she couldn’t resist splurging on the moment she arrived pattered along the pavement as she purposefully strolled, determined to arrive at the randevu point before her blind date. 

Perhaps date wasn’t the optimal term, at least not in the romantic sense. This was more like a scheduled meeting with a potential informant that she was unable to visualize due to having limited information about said person.

Carolyn had been out of the dating game for quite some time, but given the finalization of her most recent divorce, she was open to the idea of putting herself out there once again. The biggest barrier to getting her groove back on were the demands of her current job as an MI6 field agent. For years she held this grueling and soul sucking position filled with endless hours of espionage, psychological warfare, and treason adjacent activities.

She loved every second of it, but felt herself becoming increasingly restless as time passed by.

After working for so many tireless years, she could finally see the promotion to her dream job, the head of the MI6 Russia desk, just within her grasp. Ultimately, this pursuit to finally escape her living nightmare of playing second fiddle to her incompetent, paper pushing boss was what drove her to set up this meeting arranged by her longtime confidant: Konstantin Vasiliev.

The alleged Russian intelligence agent was confident this individual could provide valuable insight on several unsolved cases that have turned up nothing but dead leads; she readily agreed despite her unreliable source, desperate for a win.

Carolyn strutted through the doors of the restaurant, finally arriving at her destination, and was immediately led to her table in back corner of the outdoor patio. It was shaded by a thatched covering comprised of various citrus trees with hanging fruit. It was quite the peaceful escape from the scorching sun and perfect location for cultivating an ambiance for the safe divulgence of scandalous secrets.

She pursed her lips as she sampled a glass of the house red, awaiting the arrival of her faceless guest. Not exactly her drink of choice, but the Italians were particularly proud of their regional wines.

_Now I know this city better._

As she continued to sip her wine, her spy senses tingled with the strange feeling that she was being watched. She discreetly glanced around the room over the rim of her glass only to discover a woman sitting at the bar staring in her direction.

The mid-twenty-something year old woman was stunning.

She was wearing a knee length dark red sundress that hugged her curves in all the right places accented perfectly with a black sash tied at the waist that highlighted her slim figure. The edges of her dress rose up ever so slightly as she sat on her stool, right leg crossed over left.

She could feel the young woman’s piercing green eyes roaming her body from across the semi-crowded restaurant; flashing a bright smile while shaking her loose, shoulder length auburn hair as if she were pleased at what she saw. Carolyn allowed herself to feel flattered at the prospect of a woman in her 4th decade of life catching the eye of such an exquisite creature.

Just then, a much grumpier middle-aged woman obstructed her view of the ethereal lady in red by plopping down in the chair directly across from her.

“Hello. You are friend of Konstantin, yes?” Her presumed guest emitted in a thick Russian drawl.

“I am. You must be Dasha.”

The woman looked at her intensely while extending her hand for Carolyn to shake.

“The one and only.” She proudly proclaimed.

Dasha had an air of arrogance about her and an apparent love of animal prints judging from her zebra stripped blouse and leopard printed pants. Carolyn got the impression that this woman was dangerous but not the brightest blub in the lamp.

_This will be a fun little game._

The pair ordered their respective meals while sharing the remainder of the house red. After finishing off the antipasti, Dasha abruptly ended their less than engaging small talk by steering their conversation to the heart of why they were gathered.

“So, what do you want from Dasha, hmm?” The impatient woman inquired, her toned laced with curiosity.

Carolyn swirled the red liquid in her glass as she formulated her response.

“What do people really want from each other? A helping hand when things get tough or a pat on the back for a job well done.” She took a purposeful pause to slowly finish her last of her wine, leaving Dasha hanging on her every word. She cut to the chase after finishing the final gulp.

“As for why I brought you here, I’m after a little bit of information. You see I have this hunch, well more than a hunch really-,”

Carolyn smiled coyly as she pulled out a single photograph from the inside of her bag and then slid it image side up across the table towards Dasha who cringed upon first glance.

“-that there have been a series of assassinations of stemming from the now deceased KBG operative, Boris Yahontov,-”

Encouraged by the Russian woman’s organic reaction, she revealed another photograph stashed in her bag. This image was of a different man, but the positioning of the contorted body bared an uncanny resemblance to that of the deceased KGB officer.

“-all the way to Don Guiseppe who met his demise no more than a week ago in Sicily.”

Dasha remained quiet as she appeared to struggle to remain composed.

“Now, I’m not interested in _who_ killed these men. Although, I can see from these photos that whoever did it was highly skilled and likely untouchable in a certain regard.” The flattering comments seemed to put Dasha at ease and a smug grin soon formed out of the corner of her mouth. “What I want to know is _why_ they were killed?”

After a pregnant pause, Dasha answered in a sly manner. “Maybe I know something and maybe I don’t.”

_Game on._

“I have it under good authority that you _do_ know thing or two about these deaths and I’m hoping we can come to some sort of symbiotic arrangement. You see, MI6 is looking into these cases along with the Russian government, as you may well already know.”

Dasha shifted uncomfortably in her seat while Carolyn dangled the photo of the ex-KBG operative mere inches from her face as she continued speaking.

“It’s my understanding that _you_ have been implicated in this particular case. What if I told you I could,” she shrugged her shoulders playfully, “make that go away in exchange for information about the killing in Sicily?”

Dasha swatted the suspended photo while huffing with anger, “You do not have the power to make _that_ go away like _poof_!,” snapping her fingers as if to emphasize her point.

Carolyn smiled with glee, thoroughly enjoying their tet-a-tet, “Not yet no, but once I solve this case, I will and then,” Carolyn snapped her fingers to reinforce her words, “ _poof_ all gone.”

After she finished speaking, Carolyn could see the cognitive wheels turning behind Dasha’s eyes as she contemplated her offer until a look of acceptance passed over her face.

_Checkmate._

“The Don may have been causing too much trouble.” Dasha began as she carefully plucking the largest lemon off of the tree near their table and then rolled it in between her hands as she continued. “Perhaps bosses of brilliant killers were a little concerned about his influence on the outcome of Italian Presidential election.”

Dasha stopped playing with the lemon, holding it still in her left hand and inching it closer to her face, never breaking eye contact with Carolyn.

“So, maybe a message was sent.” Dasha then took a huge bite out of the lemon and chewed it, rind and all, with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I see, that is interesting.” Carolyn responded coolly trying her best not to react to the grown woman happily chomping on a lemon in front of her. “Assuming of course, that is what happened.”

Dasha abruptly dropped the lemon on the table as she excused herself, claiming she had an important business function to attend to on one of the neighboring islands.

After parting ways with a firm handshake and a promise on Carolyn’s part to follow through with her end of their bargain, Carolyn leaned back in her chair reflecting on every single word exchanged during their insightful conversation.

Now she understood this woman not only worked for the Twelve, the organization Carolyn had been peripherally monitoring for quite some time and whom she suspected was responsible for the string of murders, but she was likely one of their assassins and implied the existence of another. The similarities in the two murders indicated the killers likely knew one another and, given the decades in between the kills, it’s plausible Dasha may have played a role in training their new asset. More importantly, Dasha gave her the promotion worthy tidbit regarding the Twelve’s motive for the recent activity in Italy which could give MI6 a leg up with intervening in the Italian political arena.

She was extracted from her revelations by the arrival of the entrees. As Carolyn contemplated what to do with the second meal Dasha ordered, she was approached by the striking young brunette from earlier.

“You seem to be at a loss.” The younger woman said in a sultry French accent while flashing her perfect smile, “Perhaps I can be of service.” She raised her eyebrows while looking at Dasha’s abandoned entrée, “Dining alone should never be the fate of a beautiful woman.”

Carolyn’s heart fluttered at the compliment and implication of an impromptu date. She dropped her voice an octave and responded in a suggestive tone, “It’s as much of a shame as a breathtaking beauty drinking alone at the bar.”

A satisfied grin spread across the younger woman’s red lips as if she were also pleased with their flirtatious banter.

Carolyn arose from her seat to pull back the unoccupied chair at her table as an invitation for the brunette to join her, to which the younger woman promptly settled into.

“I hope you like… whatever it is my previous companion ordered.”

“I enjoy eating all sorts of things.” The brunette countered in a seductive tone while wiggling her eyebrows causing Carolyn’s cheeks to burn. “Besides, it’s more so the company I’m interested in.”

Carolyn felt the hard, rounded edge of a sandal run along the inside of her leg, slowly ascending upwards. The lady in red watched on with a cheeky grin.

“While I’m not opposed,” Carolyn proceeded as she crossed her right leg over left to halt any further ascending. “I’d prefer to at least be on a first name basis with those I’m in company with.”

She felt every second of shameless ogling in the direction of her cleavage as the younger woman responded, “Hélène, and you?”

“Carolyn.”

“Well, bon appétit, Carolyn.” Hélène said tearing her lustful gaze away from her to dig into the mystery meal.

Carolyn couldn’t help but continue her own shameless staring for a few seconds longer; taking a moment to admire the woman’s strong jawline as she chewed her food and the way she playfully licked her lips after each bite. She was itching to reach out and run her fingers along her tanned skin and feel the tone muscles of her forearms or better yet, feel those seemingly strong arms wrapped around her waist.

She physically shook herself to cease her lecherous leering long enough to consume own food while it was still warm.

They continued exchanging loaded glances between bites so often that their waitress stopped frequenting their table, leaving them in their own private heaven. After finishing the last remints of their meals, the waitress mustered up enough courage to stop by the table one last time to collect their payment. Hélène insisted on paying and proceeded to hand the restaurant employee a tall stack of bills that more than covered their faire.

They lingered a while afterwards discussing their respective likes and dislikes of their time spent in the Amalfi coast.

Carolyn sipped her espresso as she continued sharing her thoughts on the regional cuisine.

“The food in this area is exquisite but the locals seem keen on drowning everything in lemons. They’ve even managed to pay homage to it in the form of an alcoholic concoction called limoncello which to be honest I don’t care for in the slightest.”

Hélène quirked her eyebrows with amusement at Carolyn’s honest opinion and then turned her attention to the long-forgotten lemon with a Dasha sized bite mark resting on the table.

“Do you know why the Amalfi lemons are such a coveted prize?” 

Carolyn shook her head “No” in response as the brunette ran her fingers along the unbroken rinds of sizable citrus fruit. A knowing smirk formed out of the corner of her mouth as if she was about to reveal a sordid secret. She rolled the lemon towards the center of the table directly across from Carolyn as she dished the details.

“They are entirely unique. At first glance, one would expect a larger than average lemon to offer the consumer an unbearably pungent experience-” She proceeded to probe the inner flesh of the fruit with her index finger in a manner that seemed overtly suggestive.

“-but, once you get a single taste,” Carolyn was transfixed as the younger woman slowly retracted her now glistening finger, “your perception is forever changed.”

Hélène held focused eye contact with Carolyn as she licked every last drop of Amalfi nectar and sucked her long, slender finger in an effort to capture ever last bit of juice.

Carolyn downed the entirety of her ice water in an effort to cool off a bit for reasons that had nothing to do with the sweltering weather as Hélène continued her merciless teasing. 

“Their juices are the sweetest in all the world, but it is still a lemon after all and does have that signature puckering punch. They inhabit no other lands aside from the rocky cliffs of the Amalfi coast; surrounding themselves with one of the most beautiful views in the world.”

Carolyn could once again feel Hélène’s eyes burning holes into her skin as they roamed all over her body.

“Despite the danger involved, the locals continue risking their lives day after day by climbing thousands of treacherous stone steps just to pluck the ripened fruit and experience the addictive, irresistible taste over and over again.”

They locked eyes as Hélène finished speaking. Carolyn felt as if her gaze held an unspoken question that she eagerly awaited an answer for.

Rationally, Carolyn knew she should report her intel to her bosses straight away, but this was in direct opposition with her inner desire to recklessly taste the metaphorical fruit that her charming companion was eluding to. After a few beats, she felt her own eyes lower from the piercing green irises to rest on the younger woman’s plump red lips as she succumbed to her temptation.

She awoke the next morning in what she assumed was Hélène’s hotel room.

The exact details of where she was and how she got here were a bit clouded by the more vivid memories of the wildly passionate night she spent with the brunette whom seemed to be nowhere in sight.

Feeling as if she has spent a tad too long away from her MI6 duties, she rummaged around the room in an effort to locate every piece of clothing that were haphazardly scattered in all corners of the room. Her body shivered as she recalled the feeling of Hélène’s strong hands ripping the clothes off her body like an impatient child unwrapping a long-anticipated gift.

After gathering the entirety of her ensemble, she proceeded to freshen up in the bathroom before heading back to the mainland. Carolyn used the concealer she smartly brought along with her, to cover up the additional evidence of last night’s activities proudly scattered along the expanse of her neck. After hiding all the hickies like a teenager and inspecting her attire to look presentable, she took one last walk through of the room in search of the reminder of her possessions.

While scanning around, she spotted what appeared to be a note on the nightstand next to where she was sleeping that she must have neglected to notice upon first awakening. There was a message written in black ink, “ _May next time be just as sweet – H xoxo_ ” and the imprint of a kiss outlined in red lipstick, the same shade Hélène was wearing the previous day.

She couldn’t help the blissful smile from spreading across her face and feeling of warmth in her chest at Hélène’s admission that she was eager to see her again after the events of the previous night.

Upon closer inspection, Carolyn realized the message was transcribed on the back of a photograph. When Carolyn flipped it over only to stare at the image of the dead Sicilian mafia leader she was struck with a more unsettling realization.

She now had _very_ intimate knowledge of the second assassin working for the Twelve.

_They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet_

_You don't have to drink right now_

_But you can dip your feet_

_Every once in a little while_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for the restaurant is based off an actual location I visited in Sorrento called Ristorante 'O Parrucchiano La Favorita. I highly suggest going there or at least googling what this place looks like. It’s absolutely picturesque! 
> 
> Side note, this chapter is the reason this is a multi-chapter story as I was trying to answer the questions why does Carolyn know Hélène's name and why did she vividly remember meeting Dasha all those years ago?
> 
> Thanks for reading this far into the story. I promise we will be back to Villanelle and Eve in the next chapter!


	6. 20 Years and 3 Weeks Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle and Eve confront their pasts, present, and future.
> 
> Villanelle’s POV
> 
> Of note, all time stamps are in relation to the previous chapter.

Song Inspiration – Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish

_I tried to scream_

_But my head was underwater_

_They called me weak_

_Like I'm not just somebody's daughter_

** 20 Years and 3 Weeks Later **

[Paris, France]

_5 minutes late._

Villanelle adjusted the strap of her tote bag hanging off her shoulder as she shifted her weight while waiting for the arrival of her bus. She was eager to arrive to the flat she shared with Eve, groceries in tow so she could prepare dinner. Her stomach rumbled as she continued waiting, tapping her foot along the pavement. Her patience growing thin with each passing second.

_This is the worst._

She took in her surroundings in an effort to distract herself. There was something about Paris that Villanelle always loved. It had an energy unlike any other place in the world, which she personally could attest to.

Parisians carried themselves as if they all understood their individual purpose as a part of this city. They walked with confidence, dressed as if their bodies were works of art, and only ate the finest local foods. It was almost like a self-sufficient sector of the world where everyone that lived here was a cog in the wheel that kept this city alive.

Perhaps it was that energy and feeling of belonging that drew Villanelle and Eve to settle here.

The paperwork Carolyn crafted for them in the form of new identifications held up against boarder security granting them their fresh start. Their long-stay visas enabled them to hold paying jobs which granted them a steady flow of cash to live comfortably as they established their new lives.

Seeing as Villanelle’s only other job was a professional assassin, she went through a period of trial and error when it came to finding the right “normal” job for her, or rather for “Oksana Kozlova” as Carolyn so cleverly dubbed her new identity.

Oksana’s first job was as a dog walker, which lasted 2 whole days. The pay was shit but she was able to avoid spending too much time with annoying people. Unfortunately, there was too much actual shit for her to deal with to make this a viable career.

After abandoning that venture, she picked up a gig doing odd jobs from a phone app service. The pay was also shit but at least she was able to pick and choose which jobs she wanted to do. This lasted a few days until she stumbled upon her current job working as a professional translator where she could utilize her linguistic skills. Since she worked at a call center, she was able to avoid face to face interactions with her clients which meant she was free to adopt different personas, accents, and voices while getting paid.

It was like working for the Twelve minus all the murdering.

So far, she has lasted 10 whole days at the translation call center which was a personal record. This job wasn’t exactly her life’s calling either, but the pay was decent, and it was entertaining enough to keep her interested throughout an entire workday.

There was a bit of a rocky adjustment period for her as she transitioned into a normal job and thus, had to learn what the rules of the workplace were. She learned quickly this meant no napping at her desk, breaks longer than 1 hour were not ok, and that she had to play nice with her office mates – this point was reinforced by several trips to her boss’s office and mandated refresher HR training videos on “Maintaining a positive attitude in the workplace”.

Despite all the minor annoyances and adjustments, she felt herself falling into a comfortable pattern.

Moneywise, the two of them were making enough to live comfortably within the means of their current arrangement. Villanelle was learning to curb her impulses to purchase new and expensive things. As the days passed on, she found her need to fill her boredom with inanimate objects was subsiding.

In fact, she rarely felt bored while in Eve’s company.

Her bus finally arrived, approximately 8 minutes and 43 seconds later than scheduled; not that she was counting. The ride to her flat went without a hitch and before she knew it, she was entering her front door.

The apartment itself was nowhere near as chic as her previous Parisian flat but they had managed to make do with this affordable, semi-furnished 800 square feet of space. Villanelle had never felt attached to a living space before but there was something about coming back to this shared space that made her feel something akin to peace at the end of the day. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was the space itself, the person she shared the space with, or the fact that they were building a life in this place together.

Whatever it was, she was always overcome with waves of warmth and coziness the moment she crossed the threshold into their sacred space.

“Bonjour ma chéri.” Villanelle greeted Eve as she walked into the flat. She made an effort to indoctrinate more of the French language into Eve’s vocabulary to help the older woman become more confident in her French speaking skills.

She plopped the canvas grocery bag onto the kitchen counter, rolling her shoulder in relief.

Eve was, exactly where she kissed her good-bye this morning, sitting at the kitchen table hunched over her MI6 issued laptop and a mountain of papers covering every surface of the table.

This was the price for their new identities.

Eve was committed to holding down two jobs at once. Four nights a week she worked as a line cook in one of the Korean restaurants in the city proper and the remainder of the time, she did Carolyn’s bidding.

It pained Villanelle to witness the toll this was taking on the brunette.

The dark circles under her eyes were becoming a permanent fixture on her face and her sunken cheeks were a new addition due to Eve’s issue with remembering to put her basic needs like eating above working. Villanelle was hesitant to express any of this to Eve because despite the negatives, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Eve and risk erasing that glimmer of joy in her eyes, the frantic hand gestures and passionate sound in her voice when she talked about her cases. She knew Eve loved this, but she just couldn’t shake her feelings of unease and the nagging thought that they were not truly free of the Twelve’s influence.

And so, she kept it to herself, buried deep with the rest of her unsettling feelings she didn’t know how to deal with.

Villanelle turned her attention to making dinner, knowing fully well it was impossible to penetrate Eve’s hyper focused attention when she was working.

She unpacked the contents of her grocery bag and then proceeded to dice the onions, garlic, and grate the carrots while browning the mincemeat on the stove. She combined all the ingredients in a large saucepan and uncorked a bottle of cabernet sauvignon, Eve’s favorite, pouring a splash into the pot and generous amount into a wine glass for Eve, leaving it on the counter for her to retrieve at her leisure. After adding the final ingredients, she left the soon to be Bolognese sauce simmering on the stove and plopped down on the couch turning on the TV to pass the time.

After watching 10 minutes of absolute trash, she arose from the couch to stir the sauce and prepare the spaghetti. She could smell the fragrance of the meat, vegetables, and spices mingling happily. As she was stirring the concoction and turning the heat on high for the pot of water to boil, she heard the distinct sound of a laptop closing and creaking of a chair indicating Eve was done working for the day.

“Bonjour ma petite chèvre.”

Villanelle sighed in frustration, leave it to Carolyn to bestow her with a surname honoring a smelly animal. Eve, finding this detail extremely amusing, decided to use it as a term of endearment and was making it her mission in life to learn the phrase “my little goat” in every language.

“Keep calling me that and there will be no dinner for you.” She waved the spoon at Eve in a manner that was supposed to be threatening. Eve cocked her eyebrow in amusement as she calmly sipped her wine.

“Mmm, that would be such as shame because what you’re making smells divine.”

Villanelle dipped the spoon into the sauce and licked it clean.

“It tastes as good as it smells.”

A small smile crept upon Eve’s face as she moved into Villanelle’s space with her hand extended.

“You have a little bit on your face.”

Villanelle felt Eve cup her chin gently as she swiped her thumb across the corner of her lips and along her cheek. She felt a warmth spread through her chest at Eve’s act of affection. Then Eve proceeded to pop her finger into her mouth, humming in approval as she sampled the sauce.

“Mmm, you are really good at this whole cooking thing.”

“My culinary skills are just one of my many talents.”

A cheeky smirk formed out of the corner of Eve’s mouth as she dropped her gaze to Villanelle’s lips.

“A guess I should kiss the chef as a thank you.”

Villanelle felt herself lean closer to Eve; her own line of sight lower.

“According to many aprons, you are supposed to.”

Villanelle felt Eve wrap her arms around her neck as she leaned in to kiss her; taking her time swiping her soft lips against hers causing Villanelle to close her eyes and lose herself in the moment.

She abandoned the spoon somewhere in a haste to bury her hands into Eve’s hair, tilting her head and deepening the kiss.

Villanelle let out an involuntary moan when Eve grazed her bottom lip with her teeth, and she was so consumed by the sensation that she barely registered the cool, hard surface colliding with her lower back as Eve pressed her up against the kitchen counter. She moaned again after Eve pressed her strategically placed thigh into her groin. Villanelle clawed her fingers down Eve’s back, keeping their bodies flush together and managing to elicit grunts of pleasure from the older woman.

She could feel Eve’s heart thumbing in her chest as she held her, her tongue poking and prodding against her own, her hand grazing her hip, fingers dipping underneath the waistband of her pants-

Without warning, Eve pulled away. The sudden rush of cool air left Villanelle confused and disappointed.

After a beat, Villanelle opened her eyes, following Eve’s line of sight to the boiling pot of water overflowing onto the stove. She contemplated turning off the gas entirely, but her stomach let out an audible grumble in hungry protest causing Eve to giggle.

Villanelle conceded and resumed cooking the remainder of the meal while Eve cleared the kitchen table, piling her work papers on one half of the table and setting their respective places on the other. After Villanelle served their plates, they sat down to enjoy their meal while Villanelle regaled Eve with the latest drama in the world of multilingual translating.

“So then Claire-“

“Is she the one with the hairy dog or the hairy husband?”

“The hairy _ex_ -husband with the restraining order.”

“Ah yes, crazy Claire. I remember now.”

“Any way, she called asking for help discussing BMW security features with an actual factory in Germany. It seems the driver side window of her ex-husband’s car was _not_ impenetrable to projectile objects, including bricks, and she demanded the company send a replacement window since he is now pressing charges against her for property damages.”

“Never a dull moment with that one.”

“She is a one-woman reality show. Anything exciting happening with your work?”

“Nothing particularly exciting at the moment.” Despite her words, Villanelle could hear the excitement creeping into Eve’s voice.

“It’s all research and paperwork. I am investigating a few murders right now which I guess is exciting. The kills are nothing spectacular, not like…” Eve trailed off with a distant look in her eyes as if she were remembering a treasured memory. Villanelle felt her stomach twist into knots after Eve finished her thought with reverence in her voice. “Well, not like _you_. Not exciting or extraordinary in any way.”

Villanelle could feel a crushing pressure on her chest making it difficult for her to breath as the faces of her victims flashed before her eyes in no particular order: Eve’s friend lying in a pool of blood on the dance floor, the assassin flat on his face in the alley, her mother motionless on the carpet.

She shook herself violently at the last memory; closed her eyes and took a few deep breathes to steady herself. She felt Eve place her hand over her own causing her to involuntarily flinch at the contact. Villanelle did her best to hide her agitation by concentrating on finishing the last of her meal and carrying on their conversation as if everything was normal.

“Sounds like Carolyn is managing to keep you busy.” Against her best efforts, she registered the bitterness in her own voice.

“I guess so,” Eve slowly retracted her hand, her brow furrowed in confusion, “I have to earn our identities.”

“Mmhmm.” Villanelle could feel herself becoming overwhelmed. She abruptly cleared the dinner table in an effort to distract herself.

Eve did not seem convinced that everything was just fine.

“Are you ok? You seem,” Villanelle dropped dishes into the sink. The loud clattering momentarily interrupted Eve, “upset.”

She hung her head in defeat over the sink as the now unbottled emotions broke through to the surface. She took a few deep breathes before approaching Eve. The older woman sat motionless at the kitchen table.

“How much longer are we going to be stuck in _this_ , Eve?”

“Stuck in what exactly?”

“MI6, the Twelve, murders, mysteries, all of _this_.” She gestured wildly, knocking over a towering stack of Eve’s documents. The older woman dropped to the floor and immediately began gathering the papers. “You signed _us_ up for _this_ without telling me.”

Eve crumbled the papers in her fists. Eve stood up straight, glaring straight at her. “No, I signed _me_ up for this, for you. For us.”

Villanelle could feel her blood boiling and just couldn’t help the words from tumbling out.

“Ha for us! For _you_ , you mean. I can see the happiness all over your face when you talk about your cases.”

“A part of me does enjoy the work, I won’t deny that; but that’s not why-“

“Why then?!”

“Because-“

“Why throw yourself back into all of this when we agreed to leave it behind?”

“Will you just-” Eve shoved a fist full of papers into Villanelle’s chest. “-take these, sit down, and listen to me, please!”

She crumpled the papers in her hands as she fell into her favorite spot on the couch. Eve deposited the remainder of the documents onto the kitchen table before approaching Villanelle. Pacing back and forth in front of the couch as she rambled a mile a minute as if she were trying to get her thoughts out before she they escaped her completely.

“You really think all I did all of this for just me? So, I could have a fun job?”

Villanelle took a closer look at what Eve rudely handed her and noticed she was now holding informational pamphlets from local colleges.

“We couldn’t even last _three days_ without them finding us. I took this job because we were never going to be free of this on our own. I did this because I love you and wanted you to be free, truly free and not hunted by the Twelve like some animal. You deserve to have a fresh start at life, a real and normal life. You should have the freedom to choose what you want to do, who you want to be, and where you want to live. You deserve everything. I wasn’t going to just sit back and let the Twelve rob you of your entire life.”

Villanelle felt paralyzed by Eve’s confession. Her anger receded and was quickly replaced by a pleasant warmth spreading through her body as Eve continued to rationalize her actions.

“Working for Carolyn was a small price to pay if it meant you could have a real future and yes, maybe that means I’ll never truly be free of it; but maybe that’s ok. I’ve had the chance to live the life I wanted. Now, with these new aliases, you can have that. Between my two jobs, and your job, we can afford something like this,” Eve pointed at the college brochures sitting in her lap, “or whatever it is you want to do.”

Villanelle was shell shocked from what she was hearing.

Not once in her entire life had anyone ever put _her_ well-being before their own.

She had always known Eve wasn’t just anyone, not to her, and here was the proof.

Villanelle felt tears welling in her eyes at the realization that this beautiful woman pacing in front of her did all of this out of love… for her.

Eve must have noticed the emotional shift she was experiencing because she stopped dead in her tracks. Her face softened, she sat down next to Villanelle on the couch, and continued her rambling in a soothing tone.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this first. I should have. It’s just, that night the Twelve found us; seeing you like that… I was so scared for you and I couldn’t wait. So, I did what I could do in that moment. I made the call to fix our situation.”

Villanelle blinked backed her tears, curbing her emotions long enough to ask one simple question.

“You love me?”

A look of panicked realization washed over Eve’s face as if it just dawned on her what she blurted out a few moments ago. It took her a couple of seconds to collect herself and reply with the utmost sincerity and a gentle smile.

“Of course, I do. It’s why I do completely irrational things like make deals with Carolyn. It’s because I truly care about you.”

She couldn’t help the huge smile from spreading across her face nor the swelling in her chest.

Just then, Villanelle noticed a sudden shift in Eve’s demeanor as if a shadow was passing over her.

“Eve…”

“I know there is something you’re not telling me.” Eve pressed on, “You’ve been acting strange for weeks, like you’re in constant pain. I want you to know that you don’t have to deal with whatever it is all by yourself. You have me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Villanelle took a moment to let it all sink in while she stared at Eve in awe; still trying to process her actions and expression of devotion. Ultimately, she came to the realization that she would have made a similar if not far more reckless deal had Eve been the one broken and in pain on that fateful night.

“I understand now why you called Carolyn. Thank you for doing that. I worry about you, Eve, just promise me you will be careful.”

Eve nodded firmly.

Villanelle stared deeply into Eve’s eyes, basking in the affection she saw shining through and channeling strength for much more difficult part of their conversation.

“I love you too, Eve. I really do. I thought I meant it the first time I told you, but you told me I did not know what that was… and I believed you. Ever since then, I thought love was something I was not capable of doing and maybe, no one was capable of loving me. So, I-” She heard her voice crack, her breathing shaky as she propelled herself to carry on.

“I went home to Russia, to see my family. People who were supposed to love me and that I should love back: my brothers.. and my mother.” A hint of venom crept into the last word.

Eve furrowed her brow in confusion.

“You have living family members? I could have sworn your records said you were in an orphanage.”

“Ha, I was. _She_ left me there because I had a darkness.” Villanelle felt a single tear fall down her cheek. She focused on her shaking hands. Clenching and unclenching them to subdue the building rage within. “Like mother like daughter.”

Eve remained silent, hanging on every word, while rubbing soothing circles on Villanelle’s back, encouraging her to continue.

“But she wouldn’t admit that we were the same, that bothered me for years and when I saw her and she hugged me, I started having all of these _feelings_. I do not like it and cannot make them go away. The feelings got worse the more time I spent with her, the more I talked with others about her – the lies they told of her kindness, and the more I spoke to her- the lies she told about me, I just, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to make it stop.”

Villanelle paused, taking a few deep uneven breaths to push past the heaviness on her chest.

“So, I made it stop…”

Her voice just above a whisper.

“I made her stop. Then I left.”

At that admission, all of her emotions hit her like a wave. Tears were flowing, her leg was bouncing, her fists were clenched. It took everything in her power to fight the urge to flee, to run away as fast as she could to escape these gut retching feelings.

What kept her grounded was Eve’s voice, laced with genuine concern, and the comforting feeling of Eve’s hands clasped over her own.

“It didn’t stop, did it?”

“No,” she confessed, “killing her just made it all worse. Now, I feel awful when I kill people and my body freezes on the spot. Then my brain starts thinking about the other person, “Is this person loved by someone? Would _their_ _mother_ miss them once they are gone?”

Eve squeezed her hand.

“It’s not just them. I also feel really weird when I remember people I’ve killed before. I do not understand any of this and I cannot figure out how to make it all stop. All I know is that I don’t want to do any of this anymore. I just want it to go away. I want to feel normal again.”

She started rocking back and forth a bit, running the fingers of her free hand through her hair, gripping the roots in frustration. Without saying a word, Eve released her hand and got off the couch.

Villanelle was overcome with a sinking feeling that this was way too much for Eve. She shut her eyes and pressed her palms into her eyes with so much pressure, she saw stars behind her eyelids.

Soon, she felt a soft cloth dabbing her cheeks. When she moved her hands, she saw Eve kneeling in front of her wiping away her tears.

“You are so much more than a darkness. Sure, that’s part of who you are, it’s part of who I am too, and you shouldn’t feel like you need to hide that part of yourself or be ashamed of it. Running from who we are may help the feelings stop for a little while, but eventually they catch up to you and often, are stronger than before. Hell, I spent so much time and energy fighting my own darkness that I destroyed my life in the process and almost killed the person I love most.” Eve put down the cloth and gently stroked her cheeks. “The person whose darkness and light I am drawn to, just as she is pulled to mine.”

“I really hope you are talking about me.” Eve laughed; the sound made her feel lighter.

“Of course, I mean you. When I’m with you, I feel at peace. It’s almost as if we have a way of balancing each other out, especially when we are being honest with each other. Like right now. I hope you feel that way too when you’re with me and don’t feel like you have to hide any part of you.”

“I do feel like that. When I’m with you all the bad feelings go away and I just feel warm and tingly everywhere, all the time. You’re all I can think about, so much that I can even overcome my own thoughts and freeze ups like I did when I killed that man in the alley, because I was more focused on the possibility of him hurting you than I was with my own thoughts and feelings. I’ve never felt like that before about anyone.”

“Sounds like love to me.” Eve smiled her beautiful, perfect smile, “That’s exactly how I felt when you were broken after killing that man. I just couldn’t stand seeing you in that kind of pain. I wanted to make it stop for you.”

“Because you love me?” Villanelle ran her fingers through Eve’s loose curls.

“Yes,” Eve stated as she climbed into Villanelle’s lap, straddling her at the waist, “because I love you Villanelle and I want you to _feel_ loved, always.”

Eve initiated a warm and slow kiss while wrapping her arms around her neck, Villanelle instinctively grabbed Eve’s waist holding her steady. The feelings of Eve’s weight against her thighs hushed the negative feelings and sent a shock of electricity through her body.

Eve pulled away, resting her head gently against Villanelle’s forehead. Her hands wandering down Villanelle’s back, lightly scratching causing a pleasant shiver to run along Villanelle’s spine.

Their breathes mingled as they sat there in close proximity.

“How do you feel now?” Eve asked, voice huskier than usual, eyes dark and hooded.

“A little better.” Villanelle said just above a whisper.

Eve shifted to access her neck. Villanelle heart started racing as Eve sucked her pulse point. She left a trail of kisses up along the expanse of her neck, nipping at her skin as she ascended. Villanelle’s breath hitched as Eve nibbled her earlobe.

“How about now?” Eve purred into the shell of her ear, her cool exhalations soothing the bite marks.

“I feel like you are trying to seduce me.”

“Is it working?” She could feel her arousal building as Eve unbuttoned her shirt. Her mouth went dry as Eve parted the button down and ran her fingers over the fabric of her bra, scratching down along the expanse of her torso leaving her skin burning in the wake of each touch.

“Maybe.” Villanelle ran her hands under Eve’s shirt, smiling as she unhooked the older woman’s bra. Eve swiftly pulled her own shirt over her head and haphazardly tossed it somewhere in the room. Villanelle slipped the straps of Eve’s bra off her shoulders and quickly rid herself of her own button down and bra.

Villanelle let out a moan as Eve firmly cupped her breasts, nipples hardening as Eve continued her ministrations. The sounds of pleasure were muffled as Eve quickly latched her mouth back to Villanelle’s. She ran her fingers roughly along Eve’s thighs as the brunette hovering above began unbuttoning and unzipping her pants.

Her body hummed with anticipation as Eve’s hand dipped below the waist band of her pants. She felt a low groan escape from the back of her throat as Eve teased her bundle of nerves, the barrier of lacey fabric providing much needed friction.

Villanelle placed hungry kisses along the valley of Eve’s breasts, pausing to take a nipple into her mouth, swirling and flicking with her tongue. Eve arched her back in response, her hips pressing into Villanelle’s causing wetness to pool, seeping through the thin lace enough for Eve to notice.

“Mmm, feels like a yes to me.” Eve practically growled.

The primal and commanding tone was _hot_ coming from Eve.

Eve roughly reattached her mouth to hers stifling Villanelle’s whimper as she slid her fingers under the lacey barrier. Villanelle’s hips rocked desperately as nimble fingers stroked along her folds and circled her clit.

Their kisses became heated and sloppier the more Eve continued to tease her, pressure steadily building in her core, desperate for release. Her mind clouded in a lustful hazy. All she could think, and feel was Eve as she allowed herself to become fully consumed mind, body, and soul.

Suddenly, Eve ceased all movement and shifted her weight in an attempt to remove herself from Villanelle’s lap. Villanelle instinctively held Eve’s waist with an iron grip affectively keeping her in place. Eve’s pupils were blown and there was a hunger in her eyes that made Villanelle’s skin burn.

“Lay down.” Eve commanded.

Villanelle relinquished her hold on Eve’s waist and did as Eve instructed, lying flat on the couch. Eve removed Villanelle’s pants and undergarments before positioning her head in between Villanelle’s now spread thighs.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she felt Eve’s warm breath against her.

“Eeeevve!” She practically yelled as Eve ran the flat of her tongue along her entrance.

Villanelle ran her fingers through Eve’s hair, holding her in place while encouraging her to keep doing whatever she was doing by pulling at the hair attached to her scalp.

The pressure started building with every flick and nibble.

Villanelle chanted Eve’s name like a prayer as she Eve slipped her pointed tongue inside of her, circling her walls causing her thighs to quake. Her hips rocking along in sync to meet Eve’s hungry mouth as she alternated between thrusting into her and sucking her clit.

It wasn’t much longer before she toppled over the edge causing a spasmic wave of pleasure to take over every fiber of her being. Eve continued her ministrations, allowing Villanelle to feel as much of this high as she possibly could as Eve brought her down slowly.

Afterwards, Eve shimmed up Villanelle’s body lying down on her side, placing one leg over Villanelle’s waist and resting her head in the crook of her neck. She absentmindedly ran her fingers along Villanelle’s stomach eliciting pleasant shivers to run through Villanelle’s body as the aftershocks wore off. 

Eve hummed along Villanelle’s neck. “I love the way you say my name.”

“Really?” Villanelle asked, making a mental note to file away this piece of information.

“Yes, it’s really sexy and turns me on every single time.”

Now recovered, Villanelle couldn’t help the wicked grin forming out of the corner of her mouth.

“Well then, my darling _Eve_ ,” She quickly flipped their positions. Eve let out a little yelp of surprised excitement as Villanelle hovered over her, “it’s your turn to _feel_ loved.”

_And you say,_

_"As long as I'm here_

_No one can hurt you_

_Don't wanna lie here_

_But you can learn to_

_If I could change_

_The way that you see yourself_

_You wouldn't wonder why you hear_

_They don't deserve you"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kozlova, because Carolyn would troll Villanelle with a last name that means goat girl
> 
> Sorry this was posted later than usual but life is happening, and it can’t be escaped.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As always I appreciate each and every one of you that has taken this time to comment on this story and for those that have read it. It truly means a great deal <3


	7. 3 Months Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The MI6 team has a few epiphanies.
> 
> Carolyn’s POV
> 
> Of note, all time stamps are in relation to the previous chapter.
> 
> Side note, I’m a doctor not a detective so creative liberties were definitely taken with this chapter. If there are any actual detectives reading this, please feel free to yell at me.

Song Inspiration – Monster by Paramore

_You were my conscience, so solid, now you're like water_

_We started drowning, not like we'd sink any further_

_But I let my heart go, it's somewhere down at the bottom_

_But I'll get a new one and come back for the hope that you've stolen_

** 3 Months Later **

[London, England]

Carolyn rubbed the back of her neck in an attempt to smooth out the congregated stress knots forming an uncomfortable kink in her neck. She had been staring at the evidence board in front of her for the better part of an hour, hoping to find a new detail or spark of inspiration from the images and red threaded note cards scattered along the cork board.

The lone sound of the clock on the wall served as an apt soundtrack; she could feel the passage of time reverberating in her bones with each tick and every tock.

Her team was quickly running out of time to connect the invisible dots along the tapestry of faces and words laid before them. She knew they were close to unraveling this mystery but just couldn’t quite grasp the lynch pin holding this all together.

Carolyn rolled her shoulders, relieving a minutia of pent-up tension as she worked through the timeline of events unfolding in Florence once again.

Several photos of men and women hung on the upper left-hand corner of the cork board, each one adorned with a corresponding note card indicating their name, political faction, and brief description of significant events. A red string attached to each person either lined up with the right-wing political party that currently held power in Florence or the newly emerging left-wing faction that was causing quite a stir.

All of the people featured were once influential leaders in their respective parties, each holding sway over their followers; but over the course of the last 2 months, each and every one of them faced a public scandal that dissolved their trust in the eyes of their parties, followers, and the Italian people.

Not all together unusual activity in the world of politics. However, the speed at which it happened was alarming enough to catch the attention of MI6.

After combing through the character assassinations, she turned her focus to the four faces on the right side of the board. Each individual had a red “X” over their profile indicating they were deceased along with their date of death written on the lower right-hand corner. Similar to the living, each person was tied to a political faction by a red string.

Eve was providing to be useful as her anonymous undercover research agent by gathering vital information regarding the four victims. She managed to link the timing of the murders to a newly formed grass-roots progressive movement that was causing a bit of an uproar with their vibrant public protest demonstrations. It seemed the character assassinations preceding the deaths of these four individuals couldn’t quite quell the mayhem, but the killings seemed to have done the trick and the streets of Florence quieted significantly without a large gathering of either party over the past few weeks.

The bigger mystery keeping her up at night was who was behind all of this?

So far, no one had yet to claim responsibility nor has anyone been implicated.

She found it puzzling that the deaths and scandals were evenly matched between the two groups. Indicating that neither party was more affected than the other. It was possible that both groups were responsible and this board mapped the after math of evenly matched warfare. The more unsettling alternative was the involvement of an unknown third party with political gain at stake.

Carolyn was secretly hoping against the later, however the upper echelon of leadership at MI6 suspected Russian or American influence due to the growing movement of conservative political influence and overt nationalism sweeping the Italian peninsula. Which is why this particular assignment was tasked to her team for further investigation.

The sound of the office door closing and wafting smell of freshly brewed coffee broke Carolyn’s concentration. She swiveled her head, spotting Hugo who announced his arrival while balancing a carton tray of take out coffees along with a bag of pastries from the café around the corner from the office.

“All right, I have a piping hot treat for you ladies, and also some coffee.” Hugo winked with a lopsided grin while handing over an iced coffee to Elena who gave him an over exaggerated eye roll in response.

“It’s never gonna happen posh boy.” Elena muttered before taking a sip of her beverage.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?” Hugo responded playfully.

“I can when I’ve explicitly told him many times it’s only going to happen in his dreams.” Elena quipped with a coy glint her in eyes.

Hugo’s smile grew wider, clearly pleased with Elena’s response. He then proceeded to saunter over in Carolyn’s direction, handing over her much needed flat white.

She took a long glorious sip of the beverage. The caffeine coursing through her blood giving her a much-needed buzz and clarity of mind.

“Right, now that we are all situated, let’s go over this once again.” Carolyn said in an effort to re-focus her team’s attention back to the task at hand.

Hugo and Elena both dragged their chairs in front of the evidence board and settled into their respective seats. From the strained looked on their faces, Carolyn got the impression that they were both at their wits end with this case as well. Either that, or they were both internally struggling from checking one another out now that they were both in close proximity.

“Hugo, why don’t you bring us up to speed on current state of affairs for the grass-roots movement.”

“Yes ma’am. It seems that we have six-character assassinations over the last 8 weeks, as you are well aware of, leaving the movement without a stable leader. There are rumors that two members of the faction are up for consideration to take over, but no one seems particularly keen on taking it on. What with the possibility of having one’s life read to filth in public forum, who could blame them? So, at the moment they are leaderless which seems to be causing a bit of a standstill. There haven’t been any major demonstrations and protests since the public shaming of their last leader.”

Elena pipped in, “The list of shame included several sizable bank transfers to a sex trafficking syndicate, various online searches for under-age mail away brides, and engagement in a sexting relationship with not one, but two members of the Italian Parliament. Quite the piece of work that one was truly, but still makes you wonder how much of our “privacy” is nothing more than an illusion nowadays.”

Hugo quipped, casting a sly grin towards Elena, “Worried someone might take a gander at your own internet search history?”

Elena cocked an eyebrow in his direction, “Depends on who’s looking.”

Carolyn sighed as Hugo and Elena’s not so subtle flirting reminded her why she escaped to the privacy of her office so often throughout the day.

She felt her patience running thin and the beginning of a tension headache forming betwixt her brows, “So what you are saying in a rather elaborate and long-winded manner Hugo is that you have no new updates for me, is that correct?”

Hugo’s smile dropped from his face, “Yes…”

“Wonderful.” Carolyn sighed, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

She began pacing in front of the board to dispel her frustration, “Elena, please tell me you have _new_ updates to share?”

Elena flashed a cocky smile in Hugo’s direction.

“I sure do. We’ve had a bit of a breakthrough with the murder victims. According to our research agent, they were all murdered by the same person who was likely a young man in his late twenties or early thirties. We know this because, and I quote, “All the causes of death had the same uninteresting lack of style and each kill was poorly executed indicating the killer was impulsive or lazy, thus a young man. A toddler running with scissors could have done a better job.” Personally, I think the kills look pretty gruesome for your average toddler.”

Carolyn smoothed out the creases of her now furrowed brows trying her best to slow the now intensifying headache.

Elena continued after taking a sip of her iced coffee, “Besides, Eve would know with dating a former assassin and all.”

Carolyn felt her body instantly tense up, surprised at Elena’s offhanded comment regarding the identity of their off the book’s collaborator.

Hugo furrowed his brow in confusion, “What makes you think it was Eve that gave you that info?”

Elena stated matter-of-factly, “Because she has been sending me all the case files from her personal account: Eve.Polastri@gmail.com.”

Carolyn released a heavy exhale, placing the flat of her palm against her forehead, “Good lord.”

While Hugo chuckled and shook his head in amusement, “Classic Eve.”

After a few seconds, Carolyn composed herself, pushing down her disappointment and returning back to the task at hand, “Well now that the cat’s out of the bag, I trust you both will keep this information under wraps regarding our no longer _anonymous_ agent.”

It wasn’t so much of a question as it was an order. Hugo and Elena simply nodded along in confirmation.

“Right, was there anything else Elena?” Carolyn asked out of desperation to end this discussion and retreat to the heaven of her office where a bottle of paracetamol was stashed, along with her emergency bottle of Tanqueray.

Elena concluded her report with a hint of hesitancy in her voice, “Eve also had a suspicion that _you know who_ was behind all of this.”

Carolyn felt the hairs on the back of neck stand at attention. Like Eve, she also had the same inkling that the Twelve, more specifically Hélène, could be responsible for orchestrating all of this.

After the unsettling discovery that Hélène was keeping close tabs on her, Carolyn made it a point to keep all Twelve related activities at a distance from herself and her team as not to encourage any entanglements with them that was more than necessary. As a result, they spent a great deal of effort scouring every possible lead outside of the Twelve while investigating the Florence cases. Still, it seemed they couldn’t shake the very real possibility that this was the Twelve’s handy work.

Hélène always had a flair for pulling off seemingly impossible tasks with ease, typically in a dramatic fashion. These were the very skills that drew Carolyn into Hélène’s orbit many years ago and aided a young Hélène’s assent up the ranks of the Twelve.

One glaring issue remained, Carolyn lacked the tangible proof to back up this theory aside from the lip stick coated lemon sitting in her refrigerator.

After her moment of reflection, Carolyn replied with a shaky voice, “We don’t know it’s _them_ for sure, all we have to go on are hunches. We need to uncover actual evidence before we can point a steady finger at any culprit.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Hugo asked, taking a nervous gulp.

Carolyn conceded, “I’m afraid so.”

“Can someone please fill me in on why we are all suddenly terrified?” Elena demanded, eyes darting between the two of them.

Carolyn returned her focused stare away from her collages and towards the evidence board.

MI6 needed boots on the ground with election day only one month away.

“It appears our presence in Italy is unavoidable.”

_I'll stop the whole world, I'll stop the whole world_

_From turning into a monster and eating us alive_

_Don't you ever wonder how we survive?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medical tip for the day: Please don’t take paracetamol (acetaminophen or Tylenol) with alcohol. Your liver will thank you for that.
> 
> As always, I love to hear your thoughts and feelings about this story.
> 
> A huge thanks for all the kudos and comments <3
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed!


	8. 1 Month Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole MI6 team reunites the day before the election.
> 
> Eve’s POV
> 
> Of note, all time stamps are in relation to the previous chapter.

Song Inspiration – Now I’m In It by HAIM

_I can't get outta this situation_

_Walking in a straight line thinking about last time_

_This time I said I would do this right_

_Said I would never break this promise_

** 1 Month Later **

[Firenze, Italia]

Living with a former international assassin had its perks.

Daily rigorous physical training regimens were engrained habits which meant Eve reaped the benefits of having her own personal bodyguard with a marvelous physique that was both eye candy and useful in life threatening entanglements. More importantly, Villanelle was a wealth of advice for how to stay alive in potentially dangerous situations.

Like, for example, the one Eve currently found herself in as she tracked down the MI6 office located in Florence.

She rounded the sidewalk of the piazza for the second time following Villanelle’s words of wisdom to double back along the route making sure no one was following her.

Eve noted several surveillance cameras on her first trip which she dodged by blending in with swarms of tourists aimlessly wondering around the area. Their tendency of pausing every three seconds to take photos in front of anything and everything worked to Eve’s advantage, allowing her plenty of time to scan her route for cameras, faces in the event someone was following her, and of course to search for the rondeau point.

So far, so good.

She allowed herself to follow the current wave of tourists headed for the landmark statue of the medieval Italian poet Dante Alighieri standing adjacent to the Basilica of Santa Croce.

Eve extended her arm with phone in hand getting into her selfie stance, using this as an excuse to open up her text message thread from Carolyn. She read over her cryptic “directions” to the secret MI6 office making sure she didn't miss anything the first 10 times she read it.

 **Eve 08:30:** Where should I meet all of you once I arrive to Florence?

 **Carolyn 08:34:** Follow the gaze of il Sommo Poeta to the place within the in between.

 **Eve 08:39:** And where exactly is that?

 **Carolyn 08:41:** I made my self very clear, Eve. Be there by noon.

A quick Bing search revealed the identity of the Supreme Poet to be none other than Dante Alighieri. After clicking on a few links, she found a statue of him in the Piazza di Santa Croce and decided to use this as her starting point for finding _the_ _place within the in between,_ whatever that meant.

She adjusted her pose in front of the statue under the guise of taking an acceptable selfie. Once her body was aligned with the monument’s line of sight, she broke from the flock of tourists and set off diagonally across the square. After walking a few blocks, she found herself standing in front of Café Intermezzo.

It looked like a typical Italian café, but the name of the establishment caught Eve’s attention during her first lap around the square. From her limited Italian vocabulary, she assumed the word intermezzo meant something in the middle or in between which was in line with the limited description she had been given from her boss. Additionally, an unassuming café as a front for a super-secret government office would be the type of real estate venture Carolyn would go for.

Eve really hoped her rational was solid and she was not about to make a complete fool of herself if this was in fact a legitimate retail business.

A new gaggle of tourists stopped just in front of the café. Eve blended in behind them. After ensuring there were no familiar faces following her, Eve retrieved her phone checking the time as she brought the device out of hibernation mode.

Knowing herself well, she made sure to build in extra getting lost time when setting off on this adventure earlier that morning and mentally high-fived herself for arriving at the possible destination one full hour before she was scheduled to meet with the MI6 team.

She unlocked the phone and opened her map app. She used this to drop a GPS pin with the intention of sending the coordinates to Villanelle. For better or worse she wanted her girlfriend with career as an untouchable assassin to know _exactly_ where she was in the event this all panned out poorly.

Eve would have preferred if Villanelle was here with her, but the younger woman was off pursuing her dreams at the moment and that took priority.

Over the past month, the two of them took the time to plan out their future together. Part of that future involved Villanelle discovering her passion in life which she came to realize was the art of interior design. Villanelle managed use her natural talents to transform their dingy Parisian flat into a warm and hospitable environment despite their limited funds. Eve beamed with pride every time she watched Villanelle work. She would furrow her brows in concentration as she examined every inch of space, remaining entirely focused until her vision became reality.

Eve lost track of just how many layouts their apartment went through and couldn’t her locate any of her possessions when Villanelle was in her creative mode. She will never forget the pure joy emanating off of Villanelle when she walked Eve through the completed layout. It was shortly after that glorious moment that they both settled down to research interior design programs. Eventually, Villanelle landed on the Florence Design Academy which had one of the best programs in the world and just so happened to be a destination Eve herself had to personally visit for MI6 business.

They decided to kill two birds with one stone, metaphorically speaking. Villanelle arranged a tour with the interior design program’s admissions officer while Eve handled her MI6 business. Afterwards, they planned to spend quality time together to make new memories in Italy they could remember fondly with less attempted murder than the last time they were in this country together.

Unfortunately for Eve, death was inescapable on this trip. Her main purpose, aside from supporting Villanelle in her academic endeavors, was to be ready to analyze any new murders connected to the string of kills she had been investigating on Carolyn’s behalf over the past few months. She could feel the added pressure of the clock ticking down to the inevitable Italian election that was the fulcrum point of all the tension and bloodshed. Fortunately, when the 24-hour election countdown concluded Eve would once again have free time on her hands.

She smiled after opening up the text thread to Villanelle’s last correspondence after they parted ways this morning. Villanelle sent a photo of herself along with a message indicating she made it to Florence Design Academy and that she was just about to head inside to start the guided tour.

The image of Villanelle staring back at her made her heart skip a beat.

Villanelle was across the street from a massive white archway propped up with two white marble columns adorned with what appeared to be Roman soldiers along the façade. She looked like a literal goddess framed between the pillars and seemed to be glowing in the soft morning light.

Her loose honey blonde locks were slightly askew from a passing breeze, her full toothy smile was radiating bure bliss, and her hazel eyes glimmered with excitement.

Eve thought Villanelle looked so young, happy, and carefree in this moment.

In this rare instance, she was just a normal woman setting off to college.

Seeing Villanelle at ease in her element calmed all of her anxieties. It was a reminder of why she signed her life away to MI6 in the first place.

Her heart felt full seeing their new lives blossoming into reality.

Eve sent a quick text with the GPS pin and a message letting Villanelle know she was heading into the MI6 office at Café Intermezzo then deposited her phone back into her handbag.

The sound of the doorbell chirping behind her was what registered to Eve that she had in fact entered the building. Much to her dismay, the inside looked like a typical café just like the exterior.

She made a note of the closest exit which was the door she had entered. To her immediate left was a glass display showcasing the freshly baked pastries, sandwiches, and other delicacies the establishment had to offer that day. On her right was a wooden counter with several empty stools presumably there for customers to take a load off and enjoy their food and beverages.

She assumed that she arrived during a midmorning lull since the place was void of customers leaving Eve alone with the lone employee standing behind the counter in front of her cleaning the metallic espresso machine.

The man wasn’t particularly tall or muscular, he had short dark hair parted on the left side and combed over neatly with a hint of a 5 o’clock shadow adorning his strong jawline. Nothing about this guy screamed government intelligence agent.

His steely blue eyes appraised Eve as she stared back from across the café as if he was expecting her to answer an unspoken question.

“Buongiorno.” She greeted as she moved closer to the counter where the man was standing.

“Buongiorno signora. Cosa posso prenderti oggi?” The man quipped with an air of disinterest as if this was his routine.

The man’s response was way beyond Eve’s limited Italian vocabulary. Her palms became sweaty and her heat rate picked up as it dawned on her that she was in over her head.

Eve wracked her brain, momentarily at a loss since Carolyn’s instructions were limited to directions to the place and did not come complete with a secret spy password. On top of that, Eve wasn’t sure what this man was actually asking her or whether this was a super secret spy facility.

“Umm, I’m not sure.” Eve eventually responded switching to English. She figured it was best to keep playing the role of clueless tourist by responding in a vague manner. Which was easy considering her actual situation wasn’t all that far-fetched.

Her response seemed to appease the man. He nodded and resumed his task of wiping down the espresso machine in silence.

Eve was losing confidence by the second that this was the correct location. However, from this angle she could make out an additional room behind the barista that was mostly covered by a cloth divider hanging from the ceiling. Possibly the kitchen where the marvelous looking baked goods were coming from or perhaps this is where Carolyn’s office was hidden.

Eve couldn’t be absolutely certain without peering behind the curtain.

“Caffé? Panino?” The man was clearly growing impatient with Eve’s presence.

She pulled herself together and decided to just go for it. “I’m looking for someone named Carolyn Martens. Is she here?”

A knowing look flashed across his face and his posture became more rigid. The man nodded firmly while pushing back the cloth curtain confirming the existence of an additional room in the back of the establishment.

He waved Eve over behind the counter. She followed him past the kitchen towards a door in the back marked _PRIVATO **.**_

“Grazie.” Eve said, feeling relieved that this was the super secret spy facility she was looking for.

“Prego.” The man responded, grabbing a new batch of baked goods from the kitchen before heading back towards on the display counter in the front of the café leaving Eve to go about her business.

She opened the door. Inside was a single staircase leading down into a dimly lit basement. As Eve descended the stairs, she could hear the muffled noises below morph into two distinct, familiar voices engaged in a heated debate.

“You’re mad you know that?!” Hugo exclaimed, pacing in front of an evidence board while waving his arms in exacerbation.

“How? I’m simply sticking to my values. That’s honorable if you ask me.” Elena replied coolly. She was sitting in a chair in front of Hugo, her slouched posture and crossed arms indicating she was utterly relaxed which seemed to further fuel Hugo’s agitation.

They were so engulfed in this discussion they didn’t register Eve’s approach.

“Valuing someone’s looks over attempted homicide is NOT honorable in the slightest.” Hugo accused Elena as he pointed to one of the mug shots pinned to the cork board.

“Well that depends. How good looking are we talking here?” Eve inquired eager to jump into a conversation about a topic she had a multitude of personal experience with.

“Eve, you made it!” Elena squealed, leaping with so much enthusiasm she knocked over her fold out chair as she ran to embrace Eve in a bear hug.

“I missed you too, Elena.” Eve squeezed her longtime friend with equal vigor. The warmth of the embrace made her realize how much she missed her platonic companionships.

“It’s been ages which if we’re being honest is all your fault.” Elena chided as the two untangled from their embrace.

Eve chuckled trying to brush off the uncomfortable sting of guilt from the truth of Elena’s remark. Giving up contact with her close acquaintances was a sacrifice she made to go into hiding with Villanelle. She never realized how her sudden disappearance may have affected the other people in her life and she hoped she could make it up to them in some way now that her life was normalizing again.

Hugo sauntered over to her with his right hand extended outward.

“Hi Eve, I’m Hugo. Remember me? You used me for sex and then left me to die.”

Eve refrained from rolling her eyes at him. Instead, she opted to be the adult by shaking his hand.

“Yes, Hugo I remember you. Happy to see you’re alive and well.”

“Ok, we have _a lot_ of catching up to do because you’re clearly keeping delicious secrets from me!” Elena exclaimed with a mixture of surprise and intrigue written all over her face. She casted a sly glance in Hugo’s direction and Eve could have sworn she saw a faint blush creep along his face.

“Umm I think we do have a lot to talk about seeing as I walked in on the two of you discussing the merits of valuing hotness over murder.”

Elena let out an amused giggle, “Yeah we were playing fuck, marry, kill with the evidence board passing the time until Carolyn arrived for the daily debriefing. It’s slim picking for Saints among this lot which makes for a very insightful look into people’s character.”

Elena cocked an eyebrow while Hugo rolled his eyes in frustration as if reliving a prior argument.

“It’s not my fault Italians are keen on putting prostitutes on their election ballots.” Hugo retorted.

“I hate to admit this but he’s right. The political scene here is wild! Which is how we ended up with this particular hodgepodge of sordid characters to keep an eye on until this election business is over.” Elena elaborated while gesturing at the adorned cork board to highlight her point.

Eve took a gander behind Hugo and Elena, scanning over the unfamiliar faces, names, and places.

Elena must have sensed Eve’s sudden desire to divulge into research.

“We could catch you up the boring way or we could bring you up to speed with the targets by continuing our game of fuck, marry, kill.”

Eve didn’t hesitate with her answer, “Let’s play.”

Turns out, this was a very effective game for learning about the true natures of the participants.

Eve discovered her own personal preference, like Elena, for valuing hotness over murdering tendencies, which shouldn’t have been a shocking revelation given the state of her current love life. Hugo valued compatibility of interests with his romantic partners over looks alone and had surprisingly good taste in men. Most notable of all, she picked up on the subtle mutual flirting going on between Elena and Hugo as if the two of them were challenging one another with their responses.

She also learned a great deal of information that was actually work related.

Elena wasn’t kidding regarding the lack of morality among the candidates from any of the political parties. In fact, the Saintliest among them was the most boring human being on the planet. A man by the name of Antonio Lucca who was so uninteresting his political affiliation was none. The man had the type of face that was easily lost in a crowd. His record, from what MI6 could ascertain, lacked colorful scandals which made this candidate stand out from amongst his counterparts.

Antonio Lucca was a man that just existed in all the chaos of the Italian political arena.

Needless to say, he was a unanimous “kill” whenever his name was selected.

After a solid 10 rounds, Hugo was volunteered by Elena to retrieve pastries and coffee for everyone from upstairs leaving Elena and Eve in the privacy of the makeshift MI6 office.

“So how are you doing, really?” Elena asked the second Hugo was out of earshot.

“Honestly…” Eve couldn’t help the smile from forming out of the corner of her mouth nor the pleasant warmth from spreading through her body as she really took stock of her life. “I’ve never been happier. Sure I essentially blew up my own life to runaway with a hot younger woman that once tried to kill me. Plus starting my life over in a brand-new place has been difficult at times and working for Carolyn is never easy as you know, but I’ve never felt more like myself than I do now. Each and every day I _feel_ more alive. I’m not sure if that even makes any sense.”

“Sure, it does. You’ve found _someone_ that makes you happy to go through it all with. That makes all the difference.”

“Yes, it really does.” Eve admitted. “Speaking of romance, how is your love life with Hugo going?”

Elena laughed trying to brush it off, but Eve noticed she seemed flustered by the question.

“Nothing is going on between me and Hugo.”

“Uh huh, so all that flirting I just witnessed was a figment of my own imagination. Or was that foreplay to _something_ happening?”

Elena shrugged her shoulders trying to remain nonchalant. “Flirting with a fellow office hottie isn’t a crime.”

“Ahh, so you do think I’m good looking!” Hugo exclaimed triumphantly as he descended the stairs at that particular moment masterfully balancing food and drinks as if he has done this several times before. “Admitting your attraction is the first step towards intimacy.”

Elena locked eyes with Eve. If looks could kill, Eve would have been a goner.

“For the last time, I’m not interested in having a go at it with Eve’s sloppy seconds!” Elena loudly bellowed in frustration.

“WHAT?!”

Eve’s insides plummeted the instant she heard Villanelle’s voice.

The blonde emerged from the top of the staircase behind a quickly retreating Hugo with her own bag of goodies firmly clutched in her hands.

She stared in disbelief at Eve while she finished her descent.

Eve’s heart clenched when she saw unmistakable wince of pain pass across the young woman’s face. Villanelle recovered quickly by averting her eyes from Eve and settling a deadly gaze upon Hugo. Eve did her best to calm the storm brewing behind those hazel eyes.

“Babe, it’s not what you think-“

“Oh please,” Hugo jumped in, effectively cutting off Eve, “Eve used me as a human dildo to have sex with Villanelle over a listening device. Then she left me bleeding on the hotel floor the morning after to go save the assassin in distress.”

“Yep, that sums it all up.” Eve admitted gravitating to Villanelle’s side.

Eve grabbed Villanelle’s forearms, rubbing gentle circles to quell Villanelle’s silent rage. After a few seconds her features softened. Eve decided to push her luck by attempting to rationalize her actions.

“You were undercover, what was I supposed to do, blow up our mission to be physically with you?”

Villanelle roughly gripped Eve’s waist with her free hand. The gesture struck Eve as possessive as if she were staking her claim for everyone in the room to see. She now had a glimmer of mischief in her eye and her pitiful pout transformed into her signature cocky grin that still managed to make Eve’s heart thrum with giddy anticipation.

The younger woman lowered her voice an octave making Eve’s skin tingle, “Your night in Rome would have been unforgettable if you choose to spend it with me instead.”

Eve was transfixed by the purr of Villanelle’s native accent and the strong fingers slipping underneath her shirt, scratching lightly along her back.

“What if I told you that was a night worth remembering because of you?” Eve responded, willing falling into Villanelle’s playful game. Her devilish grin grew wider at the question.

“It was? I mean you heard me having fun that night, but it was so unfair that I could not hear if you had a great time.” She craned her neck into Eve’s space closing the distance between them. She whispered, her words ghosting across Eve’s lips. “Especially now that I know all the intoxicating sounds you make while having an unforgettable night.”

Villanelle captured her lips in a searing kiss that didn’t last long enough for Eve’s liking but did make her head feel foggy when it was over. She knew she had a dopey grin plastered on her face, but she didn’t care to hide the happiness she was feeling at Villanelle’s display of jealous affection.

“Unbelievable.” Hugo huffed in frustration as he placed the bag of pastries and tray of coffees on the conference table. “You ladies can take whatever you like. It’s what you’re best at.” He retreated like a wounded animal, taking a seat at what Eve assumed was his desk. She suspected Hugo’s ego was bruised by the confirmation that Eve was using him as a means to an end but also sensed he was trying to physically distance himself from the former assassin out of fear.

Elena was practically beaming from ear to ear at this whole exchange. “Your girlfriend is great, Eve.”

Villanelle released her hold on Eve’s waist. She pointed to her eyes with two fingers and then directed them to Hugo’s in a gesture that said, “I’ve got my eyes on you”.

Hugo gulped, releasing a nervous laugh, “Yeah, she’s the best.”

In an effort to dissolve some of the tension in the room, Eve placed a chaste kiss on Villanelle’s cheek which effectively wiped the smug grin off her face, replacing it with her smitten kitten look that Eve was very fond of.

“Hi there.” Eve said, drawing her girlfriend’s attention back to her.

“Hi.” Villanelle responded breathlessly, without a hint of anger in her voice.

“I can’t wait to hear about your morning at the Academy.”

Villanelle’s smile widened and her mouth opened as if about to regale Eve with the details of her collegiate tour but was interrupted by the arrival of Carolyn Martens.

“I’m afraid it can in fact wait. We have much to discuss and time is not on our side.”

Eve kept quiet, knowing it was best not to push her luck too much by attempting a witty come back.

She watched her MI6 boss pace the office with uncharacteristic nervous energy.

The MI6 boss was donning a crinkled blouse with creased trousers as if she had been living in this outfit for days, wisps of hair were out of place indicating Carolyn hadn’t bothered to tidy her appearance in a while, and Eve noticed dark circles forming underneath her eyelids peeking through her layer of foundation.

Eve concluded that this assignment was taking a grave toll on Carolyn. The realization left her with an unsettling feeling for the remainder of the meeting.

On the bright side, her boss was in such a disheveled state she didn’t comment on Villanelle’s unauthorized presence at the MI6 office. In fact, she didn’t even seem to bat an eye at her as if she expected the former assassin would be in attendance along with Eve.

Carolyn scoured the assortment of baked good Hugo left on the conference table while she rattled off the details of their operation.

“We are working with the Italian Intelligence Services and select military personnel to ensure proper security for each of the candidates and to maintain peace during and after the election.”

Eve was taken aback by this information. “Wow, I didn’t realize the Italian government was working with us on this.”

“Mmm indeed,” Carolyn responded, plucking an item from the bag that resembled a lobster tail coated in powdered sugar, “they are taking this quite seriously. You have already met Giovanni upstairs. He is our personal military officer assigned by the Italian government to protect the integrity of our collaborative operation. He is highly decorated veteran and makes one hell of a sfogliatelle.”

Eve assumed Carolyn was complimenting the man’s skills as a pastry chef since Villanelle was nodding enthusiastically in concurrence as she devoured her third lobster tail pastry. Her face was littered with powdered sugar which Eve couldn’t help but find absolutely endearing. She couldn’t contain her smile despite the seriousness of the conversation as she watched the adorable woman.

Carolyn released a huff in exasperation, “Villanelle if you intend to stay I insist that you refrain from distracting my agent.”

Villanelle widened her eyes in faux annoyance and excused herself from the conversation by meandering in front of the evidence board with her fourth sfogliatelle in hand.

Eve interjected hoping to redirect Carolyn’s focus back to the task at hand, “So to recap, our main priority is keeping everyone alive for the next 24-hours.”

“Yes, that is our focus,” Carolyn responded, “and _your_ main priority is finding anything you can about this assassin.”

“Don’t bother looking into this one.” All eyes diverted to Villanelle. She was in front of the evidence board apprising the crime scene photos of the murder victims as she spoke. “This person will not last long working for the Twelve.”

A thick silence overtook the office as if Villanelle had spoken their worst fear into existence.

“What makes you say _that_?” Carolyn asked, her tone of voice conveying the gravity of the situation.

Villanelle elaborated further, clearly unphased by the obvious tension in the room. “The Twelve loves political assassinations. Haven’t you ever noticed politicians tend to die in such dramatic ways? Those were always _my_ favorite jobs but not every killer is cut out for it.” Villanelle turned away from the board. She smiled mischievously as she continued to address the MI6 team. Eve was sure she was the only one that noticed the subtle quiver of her upper lip indicating a hint of hesitancy behind her confident façade before she turned her attention back to the evidence board.

“Besides Dasha told me the Twelve is having trouble finding good recruits. I mean, do they really think they can replace someone as amazing as me?” Villanelle flicked the photos in disgust. “Especially not with this nobody. If I were their manager, I would get rid of them myself just like I was forced to do with my own terrible newbie.”

Eve’s curiosity got the better of her, “How’d you do it?”

“Bullet to the back of the head.” Villanelle answered matter-of-factly.

Eve was a little disappointed that Villanelle would kill someone in such an uninteresting way. It was very unlike her.

“Hmm, boring but efficient.” Eve concluded trying to convey disinterest, hoping Villanelle would take the bait.

Which she did.

“Boring? He was in the middle of beating our target to death with his bare hands when I killed him. Their blood and guts were painted the walls of that bathroom. Plus, we were both dressed as clowns with red noses and everything.” Villanelle added with a conceded smirk as if she knew Eve was impressed.

Which she was… and a little turned on.

“Ahh, now that’s the dramatic, artful assassin I know and love.” Eve made sure to emphasize the last word and bat her eyelashes for good measure.

Villanelle beamed at Eve with a mixture of admiration and arousal clearly pleased with the affectionate compliments.

A glance around the room revealed the rest of the MI6 team was less enamored with Villanelle’s skills and more horrified with this topic of conversation.

“Right.” Carolyn interjected, diverting the conversation back to the present, “Well, a dwindling pool of theatrical killers at their disposal would explain the Twelve’s sudden preference in executing with character assassinations.”

“Isn’t that just modern warfare tactics nowadays?” Elena asked.

“Not on this scale and certainly not delving into this level of detail with one’s private life.” Carolyn paused to take a bite of her pastry before continuing. She seemed to be thoroughly mulling over all this information with every chew. “This is something entirely new.”

The remainder of the debriefing consisted of Carolyn assigning tasks for each of team member to complete.

Eve was able to fine tune the details of her report on the unskilled assassin and turn it into Carolyn before heading out of the office for the evening. Similarly, Elena wrapped up her coordinated security measures with the candidates and their assigned military detail in a timely fashion.

Once they were officially done for the day, Elena convinced Villanelle and Eve to grab dinner with her to celebrate their temporary freedom from the shackles of MI6.

Hugo declined since he was tasked to remain in the office overnight monitoring the state of affairs rolling into election day and keep the team updated with any new developments.

Eve thought he was secretly pleased to avoid spending any more time in Villanelle’s presence than was absolutely necessary.

The trio strolled along the streets of Florence arriving at a restaurant that Villanelle picked out for them. They sat outside in the comfortable weather watching the sunset while enjoying the phenomenal food and incredible local wines.

Well, Eve and Elena were enjoying all of the wine while Villanelle devoured most of the food.

Elena caught Eve up on the current state of affairs with her life. She brought them up to speed regarding her months in therapy after leaving MI6 which help build solid coping skills transforming her into a stronger and better Elena Felton. Eve discovered Elena moved into a new flat in the chic part of the London as part of her quest to reinvent herself. Her love life was non-existent at the moment though she claimed it was by choice and that she could “get some whenever she wanted.”

Eve kept the fact that Elena was clearly into Hugo and therefore not dating anyone else to herself.

Elena told them she decided to come back to MI6 when Carolyn made her the offer not only because she missed the excitement and unpredictability of the job but despite her “new self” she still lacked the will power to say no to her ideal and girl crush Carolyn Martens, especially after the death of Kenny whom Elena kept in touch with after leaving MI6.

After the subject of Kenny was touched upon, Eve grabbed the waiter ordering their second bottle of white wine to properly honor his memory. They consumed the entire bottle as the shared their favorite stories of Kenny.

Upon ordering their third bottle, Eve took over the conversation by catching Elena up on what she and Villanelle had been up to after leaving London. Much to her delight, Villanelle and Elena seemed to be bonding with one another especially when Elena divulged one of Eve’s more embarrassing stories.

“So, there she was,” Elena sloshed her glass of wine as she pointed an accusing finger over the table at Eve. “this woman right here! She serenaded the entire karaoke bar with _her_ version of Don’t Stop Believing which is apparently an American karaoke classic.”

“It _is_ and I stand by my decision to choose it as my song.” Eve added not the least bit ashamed of her song choice.

The comfortable weight of Villanelle’s arm across her shoulders made Eve feel at ease like they were just normal people having a fun night out with a friend.

“Will you sing it for me one day?” Villanelle asked, the sincerity in her voice caught Eve off guard.

“Only for you babe, and maybe for everyone else too if I drink anymore wine tonight.” Eve pushed her empty glass to the center of the table in an attempt to cut herself off for the rest of the evening.

“Do you also stand by your brilliant decision to drunkenly demand the audience show their appreciation by throwing items of clothing onto the stage for your encore performance?” Elena asked with a shit easting grin plastered on her face.

Eve sat in silence deciding there was no way she could answer that question honestly while keeping her dignity intact.

“Wow Eve, I had no idea you were so wild.” Villanelle noted while nudging her playfully in the side.

Eve buried her head in the crook of Villanelle’s neck to hide her embarrassment. She felt the weight on her shoulder shifting as Villanelle lowered her arm to wrap it around Eve’s waist. The blonde tugged her closer and Eve responded by nestling further into the younger woman’s side resting her head on Villanelle’s shoulder.

“Ha, I didn’t either.” Eve admitted, “I don’t remember much of that night other than waking up with a massive headache and the proud owner of three scarves and one bra that didn’t belong to me the night before.”

“You kept the bra didn’t you?” Elena accused.

Eve felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “I like the way it fits me.”

Villanelle’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened as if she just had an epiphany, “Eve, are you wearing it right now?”

Eve’s cheeks were burning. She knew her beet red face was all the confirmation they needed.

Elena laughed for such a long time she eventually ran out of oxygen throwing her into a coughing fit afterwards as her lungs recovered.

She was thankful her girlfriend was supportive enough to refrain from laughing at her expense, but what she didn’t expect was Villanelle’s thoughts about the item of clothing in question.

Eve felt Villanelle’s fingers dance along her spine sending jolts of electricity through her body. Villanelle leaned in closer, whispering along the shell of her ear, “I like the way it fits you too.” She ended the sentence by planting a soft kiss along Eve’s neck just below her earlobe and then leaned back in her seat overtly oogling Eve’s figure.

Eve felt a different kind of heat much further south after that.

“Do you think you two could refrain from devouring each other for dessert until after we finish our actual dessert?” Elena asked as she extracted her phone out of her handbag, frowning with confusion as she noted an incoming call. “On second thought carry on, I need to take this.” She walked away from the table with her phone held to her ear leaving the Eve and Villanelle alone at the table.

“I like Elena.” Villanelle admitted while rubbing circles absentmindedly along Eve’s back.

Eve was pleased by this, “I had a feeling you would.”

“I also really like the interior design program here. I think it is going to be challenging in a good way. Being there today _felt_ right. Is that weird?”

“It’s weird to hear Miss “I don’t like to be challenged” admit that challenges can be a good thing, but it’s not weird to hear you say it felt right. I had the same feeling just looking at the photo you sent this morning.” Eve traced Villanelle’s jawline watching her eyes flutter ever so slightly in response. “This beautiful, happy smile on your face right now confirms it.”

Eve placed a tender kiss under the younger woman’s jaw. Villanelle hummed in approval.

Their love bubble burst when a shell-shocked Elena returned to the table. She slumped into her chair, gripping her phone like a life-line.

“Elena?” Eve asked, sobering up the instant she saw the horrified look on Elena’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Th-that was Hugo who called.” Elena eventually said before downing her previously untouched glass of water. “There has been another murder. He said we have to come in and see this for ourselves.”

Villanelle sighed with disappointment. “So, I guess I will meet wild karaoke Eve some other night.”

_'Cause now I'm in it_

_But I've been trying to find my way back for a minute_

_Damn, I'm in it_

_And I've been trying to find my way back for a minute_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to finish! I just moved across the country and started a new job so life has been hectic. I will get back to a regular posting schedule once things settle a bit. I hope this lengthy chapter made up for the lengthy wait!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. Please share your thoughts and feelings I love hearing from all of you!


	9. 10 Minutes Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle, Eve, Hugo, and Elena analyze the crime scene and make a startling discovery.
> 
> POV: Villanelle
> 
> Of note, all time stamps are in relation to the previous chapter

Song Inspiration – Another One Bites the Dust by Queen

_Are you ready, hey, are you ready for this?_

_Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?_

_Out of the doorway the bullets rip_

_To the sound of the beat_

**10 Minutes Later**

[Firenze, Italia]

“Are we there yet?” Eve mumbled into her shoulder, Villanelle adjusted her grip under Eve’s knees to keep the older woman from sliding down her back.

Shortly after dashing from the restaurant, it became apparent that maintaining steady gate was impossible for Eve due her exorbitant wine consumption during dinner. Recognizing the hazardous risk of allowing a drunk Eve to walk along the uneven, cobble stone pavement of Florence unsupervised, Villanelle offered to give Eve a piggyback ride to the office.

An opportunity Eve literally jumped at when proposed.

“Just a few more blocks baby.” Villanelle responded as she walked along side Elena. All Elena needed to sober up in an instant was a dire telephone call from Hugo and large glass of water. She was keeping a brisk pace with Villanelle the throughout their journey.

“Mmm, you’re cute. Did you know that?” Eve said, clearly wearing her heart on her sleeve in her present state of inebriation. While Villanelle has yet to meet a version of Eve she wasn’t completely enamored with, drunk and brutally honest Eve was her absolute favorite. Plus, tipsy Eve was much more handsy than usual which was an added bonus.

Villanelle couldn’t help the small smile forming out of the corner of her mouth nor the emotional summersaults she felt in her belly as Eve snuggled further into her back.

Even after living with Eve on a regular basis, she still was not used to having someone in her life dote out casual statements of affection without any ulterior motives. Especially not someone like Eve that was capable of stirring power sensations within the very fiber of her being. It was new and frightening at first, but after a while, Eve became more than a jolter of excitement to Villanelle and transformed into a constant that kept her rooted in reality.

“Some say I’m irresistible.” Villanelle countered, determined to keep her confident veneer intact while in Elena’s presence. She was determined to dazzle Eve’s friend and remain on her good side. She noted Elena’s smirk of approval out of the corner of her eye.

“Who says that?” Villanelle tightened her grip as Eve began wiggling in agitation. “Just point them out and I’ll kill them for hitting on my girlfriend.”

Villanelle found Eve’s jealous response adorable, but couldn’t help feel a twinge of unease at Eve’s immediate solution of violence.

“Eve, it was you that said those exact words like five blocks ago.” Elena clarified as the trio rounded the corner heading straight for Café Intermezzo. “Oh.” Eve eventually conceded.

“Made it!” Elena said pulling out the keys from her handbag and proceeding to open up the delicatessen. Villanelle released her hold on Eve allowing the brunette to secure her own stable footing.

Elena helped guide Eve to the basement in order to join Hugo while Villanelle volunteered to stay in the shop and brew a batch of coffee before reuniting with the MI6 team. Villanelle knew from personal experience that a drunk Eve was not capable of making rational decisions and that a sober Eve would be upset for her own lack of mental presence during a perilous work crisis.

The last thing Villanelle wanted was for Eve to be upset.

In all honesty, Villanelle was disappointed. Up until Hugo’s urgent summoning, she was having an incredible evening getting to know Eve’s friend Elena whom she really liked.

All of this was novel territory.

This was the first time in her life Villanelle held the title of girlfriend and all the expectations that came with said title. Simple events like meeting her partner’s friends, were foreign; even the concepts of loving and being loved were unfamiliar. Her adolescence entailed a life captive behind the figurative bars of the orphanage system, in her in young adulthood she was bound by literal bars in criminal justice system, and later trapped within the ranks of the Twelve.

The price of her oppression was the absence of basic human experiences throughout of the course of her life.

This often-made Villanelle feel like she was different from other people. The Twelve, and Konstantin in particular, made her believe this peculiarity made her special. They tossed around phrases like superior, unique, and crème de la crème.

For a long time, she maintained that was true; she _wanted_ to believe she was special.

It wasn’t until Eve came crashing into her life that she _felt_ special. It was the way Eve looked at her, eyes shining with adoration when she came back to the flat at the end of her work shift, the way Eve playfully pushed her in the side when she was being full of herself, and the way Eve went out of her way to make sure that she experienced all the typical life moments that she was denied due to circumstances outside of her control.

Experiencing normal things with Eve was something Villanelle could get used to. Afterall, this is the life she always wanted. She just hoped this was what Eve desired as well but she couldn’t rid herself of the nagging thought that Eve wanted a life more in the _abnormal_ territory.

Villanelle savored the smell of freshly brewed coffee. The heavenly scent distracting her from her thoughts of insecurity. She distributed the new batch among the two take away cups. After securing the plastic lids on top, she headed down the staircase to join the MI6 agents.

The sight she beheld squashed the tiny shred of hope Villanelle clung to that they would return to their festive evening instead of spending the remainder of the night cooped up in a dingy basement doing boring work. She sighed in resignation as she headed for the group with the prized caffeinated beverages.

Hugo seemed at his wits end. He was frantically pacing in front of the evidence board while pulling at the roots of his so much that his hair lost its characteristic wavy elasticity. Just in front of the now flat haired, marching Hugo was Eve hunched over Hugo’s desk staring intensely at the crime scene image on the computer monitor. She was leaning heavily upon the palms of her hands indicating she was struggling to keep her herself upright. Slouched in the chair next to Eve was Elena who was clearly having a similar issue of remaining vertical. Her eyes darting between Hugo and Hugo’s monitor as if gathering the will to make her eyes focus was too much at the moment.

Determined to speed things along, Villanelle nudged the takeout coffee container under Eve’s noise, the scent alone jolting a spark of life into the older woman. She eyed Villanelle appreciatively and proceeded to take a hearty swig.

After handing over Elena's cup, Villanelle pulled up a seat next to Eve. She felt content watching as the cognitive wheels in Eve’s brain starting to turn once again as the effects of the caffeine kicked in. Her previous feelings of unease returned when Villanelle recognized a change in Eve’s demeanor as she browsed through several gruesome photos on the computer screen.

She always knew Eve had a dark side that she was desperate to indulge in. The more Eve involved herself in Carolyn’s missions, the more she noticed this side of Eve emerging from the shadows. Villanelle wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about this let alone what Eve was feeling. The more she dwelled on this, the more her stomach churned with sourness and her mind raced with troubling thoughts.

_Is she pretending to be normal for me?_

_Am I holding her back from what she really wants?_

_Will she lose interest in me if I never kill again?_

Villanelle was torn from her insecurities by Eve’s inquiry addressed at Hugo, causing her to burry all thoughts of this uncomfortable subject for the time being.

“Where did you say these photos came from?”

Hugo stopped his pacing long enough to answer, “Carolyn sent them over with directions to call you both back to the office.”

Villanelle knew Eve was attempting to work through a part of this puzzle by the way she furrowed her brows and poked out the tip of her tongue from the corner of her mouth, a habit Villanelle found endearing.

“Did she take the photos herself at the crime scene?” Eve replied with a wave of her hand.

Hugo shrugged, “I suppose so. She isn’t exactly an open book about her whereabouts. I haven’t heard from her since then, if that helps. Why do you ask?”

Elena patted to the seat in the adjacent chair. As if on cue, Hugo slumped down into the seat next to her. Their thighs were mere millimeters from touching. Villanelle assumed this was deliberate as neither of them made an effort to move.

Eve ran her fingers through her luscious curls. Villanelle was temporarily mesmerized by the action. She felt a pang of disappointment she wasn’t playing with Eve’s glorious hair and instead was watching her girlfriend detangling her own curls in frustration as she worked through an international assassination.

“This was, not at all what I was expecting.” Eve sighed in astonishment.

Hugo replied with amusement in his tone, “How much did you two drink? This can’t be that much of a surprise. It’s another murder! This is literally what we were all expecting and why we are here in the first place.”

Villanelle felt a twinge of annoyance at Hugo’s dismissive attitude towards Eve. Perhaps she was feelings some residual jealousy after discovering this floppy haired man-child had the privilege of sleeping with Eve. Either way, he was getting on her nerves. Villanelle recognized Eve was still mentally sluggish and decided to step in and supplement what she knew was on Eve’s mind.

“This was a different killer.” Villanelle stated matter-of-factly. After she said it, she saw the light bulb of clarity turn on for Hugo.

“Yes, exactly! God, I love you.” Eve exclaimed and then preceded to plant a chaste kiss on Villanelle’s cheek causing her face to flush.

“What makes you both think that?” Elena asked clearly puzzled.

Villanelle’s heart swelled with pride as Eve proceed to lay out the inner workings of her brilliant mind with an air of jubilance. “Ha, well first of all it’s _obvious_. The execution is much more calculated, thoughtful even. This person is clearly very skilled and has a sense of style which is uncommon.”

“Sounds a lot like Villanelle.” Hugo added with a hint of trepidation in his voice. Villanelle took pleasure in the fact that Eve’s former fling found her intimidating which she couldn’t help but play into. She addressed his roundabout accusation by staring directly into Hugo’s eyes, smirking as he squirmed under her gaze, “It wasn’t me. I don’t do that anymore.”

“It’s true she was with us all night. Former fighter is now all lover.” Elena added with a playful wink.

Hugo’s posture relaxed when Villanelle relented her steely glare. After a few breathes of relief, he conceded, “Ok, sure but if it wasn’t her and it wasn’t the bloke that killed the others then who did this?”

“Exactly!” Eve exclaimed, “Why them and why now? We need to get to that crime scene!” Eve made a move to grab her jacket off the back of her chair as if she were prepared to race out of the office. Her efforts were thwarted by Hugo.

“Not so fast, Carolyn gave us all explicit orders to stay here and work on solving this together.”

Eve huffed in frustration, “And you trust that Carolyn has shared _everything_ she knows about what’s happened?”

Hugo grinned triumphantly, “Of course not, I’m not an idiot. I managed to get a hold of the CCTV footage around the time of the incidence so we can take a look for ourselves.”

“Did you bribe Giovanni for it?” Elena asked, eyeing Hugo suspiciously.

Hugo donned a cheeky grin before answering, “Maybe he just finds my good looks and charms irresistible?” Elena rolled her eyes, “Or he just loves cash.” Villanelle added, “Who doesn’t?”

While Hugo queued up the footage on this desktop, Villanelle absentmindedly played with the hairs at the nape of Eve’s neck a habit she formed when they were alone in the their flat and Eve was buried in difficult cases. She could see Eve visibly relaxing, which was her intended effect. The hums of contentment Eve released every time she lightly scratched the base of her scalp encouraged Villanelle to continue her ministrations.

The screen illuminated with the CCTV footage. Villanelle could tell from the angle and lighting the camera was positioned upon a shop front. The positioning gave them a clear view of square littered with people carrying about their evening. The alley in which the body was found was dimly lit but visible from this vantage point.

“Giovanni said the footage starts from sundown and lasts until the police begin their official investigation.” Hugo explained, settling once again into the chair next to Elena.

After several uneventful minutes of watching pedestrians meander about, Eve took control and enacted the fast-forward feature, desperate to move thing along. Villanelle mostly watched Eve concentrate on the footage and would every so often glance at the monitor to see what had caused Eve’s brows to perk up in intrigue. At one point, she shared and awkward stare with Elena, after she accidently caught her rubbing small circles on Hugo’s back.

It must have been a few hours after sundown when Villanelle noticed an interesting sequence of events. A very stylish woman in a red dress and reasonable well dressed, heavy set man walked hand in hand towards the camera. This struck Villanelle as odd. It was clearly after hours for boutique shopping and not another soul had come this close to camera since the sun set. Eve must have noticed this as well. She halted the fast forwarding feature and then resumed the footage at normal speed.

Villanelle noticed the couple remained in the camera’s direct line of sight the entire time. They eventually stop directly in front of the shop front. The woman’s face was obscured by the man’s large frame. His face, however, was unmistakable.

“That’s our victim.” Eve pointed out, “Ugh, gross!”

Just at that moment, the woman pulled the man in for a sickening smooch. Villanelle distracted herself from the disgusting display by voicing her own observations, “She missed the location of the CCTV camera. Ha! What a rookie mistake.”

When the kiss was finally over, the woman playfully tossed her hair back, a knowing smirk plastered on her face as her green eyes stared directly at the camera seconds before the feed cut out.

“Wow, you’re right Vill, she was practically posing for the camera like she knew where it was.” Eve commented, oblivious to what had just transpired. A cold shiver ran through Villanelle’s body as she replied, “She _did_ know where the camera was. That was my former boss, Hélène.”

The room fell silent, the whirring of the computer serving as the monotonous soundtrack to the black screen.

Eve’s eyes widened and her jaw fell. She physically shook herself to recover from the startling discovery. “Was this the same Hélène that sent an assassin after you in Amsterdam?”

“Yep,” Villanelle said, placing a popping emphasis on the p. “That’s the one. I never said she was boss of the year.”

“That’s it, I’m calling Carolyn. She needs to know we have solid evidence the Twelve is involved.” Eve retrieved her phone from her handbag and proceeded hold the device up to her ear. “Shit! It’s gone straight to voicemail. Carolyn isn’t getting my vote for boss of the year either seeing has she has this awful habit of turning her phone off at dire moments.”

Villanelle had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that something wasn’t adding up. 

She refocused her attention back to the CCTV footage which once again displayed the square in front of the shop. There appeared to have been a time jump after Hélène’s deliberate cameo. The dead body was now visible in the alley along with flashing red and blue lights, caution tape, and a few officers in uniform performing various tasks. 

“Eve..” Villanelle said in an attempt to divert her attention back to the monitor.

There among the throng of uniformed men and women was Carolyn. The officers were surrounding her and talking a mile a minute as if they were giving her a report. What really grabbed Villanelle’s attention, however, was the striking woman in red standing on the outskirts of the crowd.

They let out a collective gasp as Carolyn and Hélène locked eyes from across the crowd. A few seconds later, Hélène backed away out of the crowd and off screen. Carolyn grabbed her phone, presumably to send the text Hugo received early calling them all back to the office, and then walked off in Hélène’s direction.

Villanelle broke the thick silence with yet another revelation.

“I think our bosses know each other.”

_Another one bites the dust_

_Another one bites the dust_

_And another one gone, and another one gone_

_Another one bites the dust_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all once again for continuing to invest in this story! I have revised my working outline a bit and there will likely be more than 16 chapters required to complete this story. Stay tuned for more updated on that :)
> 
> Please feel free to reach out with all your thoughts and feelings. Comments and kudos guarantee the timely delivery of new content <3


	10. 10 Years Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolyn remises on a defining moment in her career. 
> 
> OR 
> 
> What really went down on that mission in Lebanon.
> 
> POV: Carolyn

Song Inspiration – Force of Nature by Bea Miller

_I feel your lips move in and they take me under_

_You know just what to do, how to make me want you_

_And I know I'll be broken when it's over_

_Oh but I can't help but pull you closer_

** 10 Years Ago **

[London, England]

The incessant drum of the ticking wall clock served as a Carolyn’s reminder that she was trapped in a dingy waiting room until summoned by her all mighty superior.

She tapped her foot upon the tile floor, crossed and uncrossed her legs trying to distract herself from her wanning patience. She was not the type of woman that was accustomed to waiting. Carolyn assumed this is why her boss loved to pull this power play every time they schedule a meeting together forcing her to spend more time than she would like on a lumpy couch pretending to enjoy flipping through outdated tabloid magazines.

She noted the young receptionist in the corner stealing glances at her every so often over his computer monitor in between rapid keystrokes. His behavior gave Carolyn the suspicion he was in cahoots with her boss, typing out frequent updates of her current state of agitation. She knew once she crossed over into the right state of annoyance, she would be called into the office.

Carolyn turned her attention back to the magazine in hand, focusing on her breathing to maintain her composure.

The assistant finally addressed her several minutes past the scheduled appointment time.

“Carolyn, Madam Jacobson will see you now.”

Carolyn rose to her feet, tossing the vapid magazine onto the coffee table as she walked towards the receptionist’s desk. “What a pity, I was just about to find out what the royals were up to ten years ago.” She mocked, raising her eyebrows in amusement.

The wide-eyed, bewildered look the young underling gave her almost made her morning worth the extra wait.

Once inside the well-lit elongated office, Carolyn headed straight for the oak desk where Helen Jacobson, MI6 boss extraordinaire sat fumbling with a bag of crisps. Her shoulder length curly hair was streaking with gray a testament to the many years of service to MI6; a clear sign this job was taking its toll on the veteran agent, something Carolyn felt deep within her bones as the years passed on.

Helen first registered Carolyn’s arrival as she took a seat in the lone cushioned chair in front of the regal desk. With a huff of indignation, she handed over the crisp bag for Carolyn to open.

“Rather early for stress eating wouldn’t you say?” Carolyn asked before popping a crisp from the newly opened bag into her mouth.

Helen snatched the bag back, shoving a few crunchy morsels into her mouth before answering. “You’d be stress eating too if Paul talked your ear off for the better part of the morning. I swear there is nothing that man loves more than the sound of his own voice.”

“Perhaps his own reflection?” Carolyn added.

Paul was the bane of Carolyn’s existence. An ego-centric bureaucrat more interested in stroking his own ego than actually accomplishing anything of substance. Despite his mediocrity, and much to Carolyn’s displeasure, he managed to move up the ranks of MI6 leadership over his career. His overarching reach of duties causing him and Carolyn to cross paths professionally on several occasions. Needless to say, Carolyn did not hide her true opinions about Paul, especially not from Helen with whom she shared mutual feelings of distain.

Helen nodded in agreement, mumbling in between crunches, “Touché. But enough about Paul and on to the task at hand.”

“Yes.” Carolyn said. She felt cautiously optimistic that Helen would see things from her point of view with regards to their latest business. After all, Carolyn had played a significant role in saving the world twice over at this point in her career, securing her position as the head of the MI6 Russia desk. The job was everything she hoped for full of unexpected challenges, excitement, danger, and, oddly enough, romance. Her growing portfolio on the international crime syndicate based in Russia called “the Twelve” had her bosses eating out of the palm of her hands. Despite her rising success, her superiors still held the power to tear her asunder at a whim, a prospect Carolyn very much wanted to avoid. Such were the downfall of office politics.

After working with Helen for several years, she found the best way to stay on her good side was remaining direct and succinct, leaving no extraneous detail for misinterpretation. 

“As you saw in my report, the key players, dates, times, and rendezvous points are all identified. This will be a straightforward operation with minimal risk and low threshold for collateral damage. All that’s left before setting everything into motion is securing your stamp of approval.”

Helen wiped her fingers on the top of her pants removing the grease and crumbs. She then proceeded to scan through the contents of the manilla folder on her desk. Pausing only to pop in another crisp, wipe her fingers, and repeat this routine until she was fully satisfied with the contents of Carolyn’s dossier regarding the proposed international mission. Each repetition spurred an added ounce of anxiety within Carolyn, hyper aware that her fate hung in the balance.

Helen was unreadable when deep in concentration. A true master of the poker face, a trait Carolyn found both annoying and impressive. After reading through the briefing for the third time, Helen shut the folder and placed it on the desk pushing it towards the center. She let out a long exhalation while rubbing the back of her neck with her non-crisp eating hand.

“Christ, I can’t believe you managed to talk me into granting you an unsupervised mission.”

Carolyn released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She thought it best to remain on her boss’s good side by reinforcing her past successes with as much confidence as she could muster.

“After working with me over the last ten years I’d thought you’d realize the extent of my influential ways. Remember how well the Trafalgar mission went?”

Her boss chuckled in amusement, “Ha! Beginners luck. May I also draw your attention to the Moscow mess up that you assured me would be a piece of cake?”

Carolyn felt a sting of embarrassment at the mention of one of her past missions that had gone a tad awry. The culprit of her derailment may or may not have been a very sexy and distracting former Twelve assassin.

“I got the intel on the nuclear weapon.” Carolyn said, trying to remain as stoic as possible. Judging by the shit eating grin on Helen’s face, she was failing miserably. “Eventually, that is.” Carolyn conceded, trying her best to pivot the conversation into more favorable territory. “I can assure you my intel is solid this time.”

Helen sat back in her chair appraising Carolyn from across the desk, her lips pursed in concentration as if she were internally debating something of great importance. A sense of unease washed over Carolyn sitting under her boss’s gaze. Her body stiffened like a statue, desperate not to move even a nanometer out of fear the action might rub Helen the wrong way, putting her entire MI6 career in jeopardy.

Helen popped another crisp into her mouth. Carolyn’s finger’s itched to fidget in order to relieve her pent-up nerves.

“Hmph. Which one of your honeypots did you extract the coveted information from this time?” Helen asked, the air of cheekiness in her tone was not lost on Carolyn. Her muscles relented their stronghold. Her body finally relaxing for the first time since stepping into the office. Helen watched on with a curious grin.

Carolyn did her best to keep her private life under pad lock and key, especially from her sordid work associates. She was a private person by nature preferring to keep her romantic dalliances away from the public eye. It’s not that she was prudish and ashamed of her sexual desires, she just wanted to keep her love affairs to herself. It was like a well-kept secret, an Eden she could retreat to and in that secret garden, with her chosen partner, she was free to be herself.

Nothing more, nothing less. No façade of the rough and tough MI6 leader, not a mother responsible for taking care of her children, not an adult with obligations to society. In those moments of unabashed passion, she was simply Carolyn Martens.

The trick of the matter was finding the right partner, one she trusted enough to fully let loose. She was never fully convinced that person existed, and she never imagined in her wildest dreams that her companion would exist in the form of a sworn enemy. Despite the star-crossed scenario, neither her nor Hélène could deny their extraordinary compatibility.

What started out as a cat and mouse chase soon morphed into a honeypot situation with a mutual trust slowly formed over the past decade.

Hélène was a constant challenge. She kept Carolyn on her toes trying to stay several moves ahead of her in their figurative game of chess. Out maneuvering one another to secure victories for MI6 and the Twelve fell second to their private game of outsmarting each other. This became increasingly more difficult as the years passed on. The two of them got to know each other on a soul level. They had a mutual understanding in such a unique way it was almost as if they could read one another in an undefinable way.

In addition to existing as her intellectual equal, Hélène also did an incredible job of keeping Carolyn’s toes curled when they were alone. Each passionate encounter left Carolyn satisfied in the moment. However, the moment they parted, she felt herself craving Hélène. Soon, their fleeting encounters finagled around work-related opportunities weren’t enough to keep her satisfied.

At first Carolyn thought she would get over this crush, but she hasn’t. Her feelings have only intensified the more time they spent together. She would be terrified of this entire situation but knowing this was mutual helped ease her doubts. In fact, Hélène was honest with her intentions from their very first meeting in Sorrento. Always finding time to meet Carolyn when she was able to. They even went as far as meeting outside of work-related entanglements, traveling across countries and scheduling time in advance to see one another.

Despite being on opposite sides of global conflicts, they sustained a relationship over the past ten years, and managed to keep this illicit affair all to themselves. Carolyn was determined to keep it that way and dispel whatever inklings her boss might have.

“Oh, it was given willingly I assure you.” Carolyn said, her heart racing as she briefly recalled a particularly steamy entanglement in which Hélène divulged the details in question. “Plus, this source is much more reliable than Valid or Konstantin.”

Helen simply quirked her eyebrows in amusement. “If you say so.” She replied, tossing the empty crisp bag into the waste bin. “I’m not taking the fall for this one Carolyn. I mean it. If this turns out to be a massive shit cake then you’ll be eating it all alone, have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal.” Carolyn replied coolly.

“Well get on with it then.” Helen said, shooing Carolyn out of the office with a wave of her hand.

Carolyn uprooted herself from her seat and headed for the door.

“Carolyn, a word of advice. Be careful with this one.”

The gravity in Helen’s voice gave Carolyn pause. She froze in place with her hand grasping the half-turned doorknob. She got the sinking feeling her boss knew her current informant was more than a casual acquaintance.

Helen continued in a serious manner, “Can’t have my agents all razzed up. Mere slaves to their emotions, forgetting who’ s side they are really on, now can I?”

“No, that would be a complete disaster.” Carolyn said with a crooked smile before closing the office door behind her.

* * *

** 10 Days Later **

[Beirut, Lebanon]

She was close.

Breathing heavy, writhing uncontrollably, clutching taut muscles for dear life.

All of her senses overwhelmed with Hélène. Her hands, her voice, her eyes, her everything.

Carolyn was an addict getting her long-awaited dose of her drug of choice.

Hélène took her time, saving their long-anticipated reunion. Carolyn knew it was risky to be doing this here and now, so close to the arms deal she was here to intercept but she didn’t have it in her to care.

When she was with Hélène the rest of the world disappeared.

She ran her fingers along Hélène’s back, scratching along the spine just the way Hélène liked, mapping out every inch of skin along her path. Committing to memory every bump and dip. Hélène responded just as Carolyn had hoped by quickening her steady rhythm, pumping and pushing her right over the edge into absolute bliss.

Carolyn fully collapsed on the mattress as waves of intense pleasure coursed through her body. She struggled to catch her breath and steady the rapid thumping of her heart. Hélène laid down on her side. Carolyn felt the pressure between her thighs ease as Hélène retracted her fingers and watched in awe as Hélène popped the glistening, slender digits to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean.

“Mhmm, I missed you ma cherie.” Hélène cooed, nesting into Carolyn’s side. She closed her eyes allowing herself to feel momentary peace in the younger woman’s warm embrace. She counted the beats of the her lover’s heart thumping against her arm. The wild rhythm noting their precious time.

“I missed you too, but I really do have to go. The arms deal is only a few hours away.” Carolyn said, shifting away from the younger woman. Her half-hearted attempt at leaving was easily thwarted by Hélène’s ironclad grip along her abdomen. She knew from the wicked look in those piercing green eyes that her lover had other plans.

“Is that a challenge?” Hélène’s warm breath purred along her neck. Carolyn felt a pleasant shiver run along her spine. “You know I prefer to take my time, but I can be quick if it’s absolutely necessary.” She felt her body rekindle with desire as the younger woman peppered teasing kisses down the expanse of her neck.

Carolyn shook her head chuckling at the absurdity of Hélène’s remarks, “I think you just proved that you have _no_ intention of sticking to that otherwise I would have left this room three quarters of an hour ago.”

Hélène pulled away from her, leaning on her side. “I didn’t hear you protesting my _methods_ at the time.” She said with a playful lithe in her voice.

“That’s because I’m rather fond of your _methods_.” Carolyn leaned in, capturing Hélène’s lips. She adjusted her position to straddle the younger woman at the waist for a brief moment before hopping off the bed entirely. As much as she really wanted to throw even more caution to the wind, Carolyn knew she had to be the responsible adult in this situation.

She grabbed her hastily discarded clothes from all corners of the room, heading the bathroom after putting them on to fix her hair and re-apply a quick layer of make up in order to look like she someone’s boss and not a hidden love affair. Once she felt presentable enough to face the outside world, she exited the restroom only to find a pouting Hélène in a hotel robe leaning against the wall by the front door.

Carolyn felt a pang of sadness from the look of disappoint on the young woman’s face.

“This shouldn’t take long, if my trusted informant is as brilliant and reliable as she claims to be.” Carolyn said, trying her best to reassure Hélène.

“Have I ever let you down?” Hélène responded with a loving grin.

Carolyn planted a quick peck on her cheek, “Never.”

She opened the door and then took a step out into the hallway. Soon she felt, a firm grasp at her wrist and, after a short twirl her, a cool, hard surface against her back and a warm body pressed firmly against her front. Carolyn barely registered the stabbing sensation in her lower back. She was far too focused on the greedy lips deriving her of oxygen and the nimble fingers focused on unclasping her bra and tugging up the corners of her sweater. Her own hands were buried in auburn locks, deepening the searing kiss.

Hélène relented her assault on Carolyn’s mouth, moving to ravish her neck instead. Their bodies pressed flush together. Now that she was able to breath, Carolyn opened her eyes in between breaths finally taking stock of her surroundings. The oxygen providing clarity of mind to stop before things got out of hand right in the middle of the hotel hallway.

“Hélène, please...” She whispered.

“Are you asking for a truce?” Hélène said. She stopped her advances but didn’t make any attempt to physically distance herself from Carolyn, for which she was grateful. She interlocked their fingers and rested their foreheads together.

“For now, my love.” Carolyn desperately wanted to give in, but she knew that she shouldn’t. There was too much at stake with this mission. She brushed her fingers along the back of Hélène’s knuckles trying to reassure her. “But after…” Carolyn continued.

“After?” Hélène’s said with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Carolyn couldn’t help but smile. She snaked her hands along Hélène’s waist pulling her closer.

“Yes, after this is done. I’m all yours for as long as you want.”

“I like the sound of that.” Hélène said, her husky tone causing a pleasant warmth to spread throughout Carolyn’s body.

Carolyn leaned in, sealing her promise with a kiss and hoping to convey the truth of her words with this action. After a few seconds, she untangled herself from Hélène’s embrace bidding her farewell.

She retreated from the door, heading towards the exit determined to meet up with her MI6 team before giving into temptation and breaking her own truce out of her own lack of will power. Carolyn was in such a rush, she nearly toppled over a frail, looking woman in the hallway as she rounded the corner towards the stairwell.

* * *

** Later That Evening **

[Beirut, Lebanon]

“As far as we know there were three casualties, two of which were snippers. It’s unclear how their locations were known to our unknown enemy.” Tom reported. He was a young, burly man new to the department. A green agent, looking to make his mark and find his place in the world. His persistent optimism once fueled Carolyn with purpose, but now he was getting on her nerves.

“What do we do now ma’am?” Tom asked.

She was unable to speak. For the first time in a very long time, she genuinely did not know what to do. It felt as is her entire world was crumbling to pieces. She tried to think, but the only sound she heard were the crashing of the waves against the docks. Carolyn never liked the beach. It was dirty, gritty, and the breeze was always cold. It had a distinct smell, salty and burnt. After tonight, she feared it would be a scent forever engrained within her nostrils. A scent that would fill her with regret, resentment, and rage.

She tore her gaze from the endless nothing of ocean with the moon shining bright overhead and turned her focus to the empty storage containers that once held enough weapons to fully arm a small country.

Weapons that were gone without a trace.

“Shall I notify Madam Jacobson?” The young agent asked eager to get on with his work.

Carolyn felt nauseous knowing her boss was never going to let her hear the end of this setback. She was going to be an example of embarrassment within MI6 for at least the next five years. If she still had a job that is.

“No, I will call her straight away. You just… just…” Her mouth felt dry, like she had a mouthful of sand. She really hated the beach.

“Shall I get in touch with the Lebanese police? See if we can get our hands on some surveillance footage?”

“Uh, yes. That will do for now.”

The agent nodded, pivoting on his heel to get to work figuring out what went awry.

Carolyn took a walk, heading away from the crashing waves. Hoping to clear her head before informing her boss of the current state of their troubled operation. She stopped once she could no longer hear the agonizing sounds of the sea.

She took solace inside a small alcove along the side of a warehouse. The still air was the perfect location to light up a cigarette. Stress smoking was a nasty habit she picked up in college. She never cared for it, but the nicotine did manage to help clear her clouded mind in times of peril. After stubbing out the lit nub against the pavement with the heel of her flat, she leaned against the cool concrete with the back of her head resting against the wall. Her racing mind mercifully slowing its pace.

“You know the docks are no place for a reputable woman.” Said an all too familiar Russian drawl. “Ha, and definitely not the place for an English spy.”

Carolyn opened her eyes, sighing as stood up to face Dasha.

“Funny, I never pegged you as a thalassophile.” Carolyn shrugged her shoulders. “My mistake. Definitely not my first, nor my last.”

Dasha took a step forward. In the dim light Carolyn could see the years had taken their toll on her. The assassin seemed less muscular, shorter, even fragile looking. If Carolyn didn’t know any better, she’s mistaken her for someone’s babushka. Regardless of her change in appearance, Dasha still had a dangerous fire in her eyes.

“Ha, you break promise to someone else too?” Dasha spat, her tone laced with venom.

Carolyn felt a fire ignite within her causing all of her burried emotions to spill out onto the surface.

“I didn’t break my promise. I negotiated your freedom for _years_! Your masters, the Twelve, denied your freedom every single time. They made it impossible for you to step one foot in Russia without their approval.”

“Lies!” Dasha growled, inching closer. She pulled out a switch blade from the pocket of her bomber jacket, brandishing it in front of her body.

“Believe what you want. I’m done dealing with you. I have much bigger problems.” Carolyn tentatively circumvented Dasha careful to maintain distance between them. Her right hand gripping the concealed pistol in the pocket of her long coat.

“Missing large number of weapons, maybe?” Dasha badgered with a devilish grin.

Carolyn ceased her pacing overcome by a moment of clarity. “Ahh, I should have known the Twelve would jump at the chance to claim this haul for themselves.”

“Not the Twelve. Hélène.”

Carolyn widened her eyes in disbelief astonished at the accusation. “Hélène?”

“She jump at chance for promotion. She knew you were breaker of promises and not as powerful as you think.” Dasha continued, clearly taking pleasure in divulging this information.

Carolyn briefly entertained the possibility of Hélène’s involvement. A cold shiver passed through her body and stomach churned sour.

“See Hélène is smart, best assassin I ever trained. She keeps the Twelve happy. That’s why they keep promoting her.”

“Do you really expect me to believe you? You accuse me of lying and breaking promises then presume I will trust your allegations against one of your own colleagues?” Carolyn knew she was right not to rely on a single word Dasha said, but somehow openly defending Hélène felt hollow.

“Believe what you want.” Dasha snarled with a smirk. “Just know you will not stop us. We are too powerful.”

Carolyn eventually conceded the stand-off. She retreated from the alley leaving Dasha in the alcove.

She marched towards the main road trying to outpace her plaguing thoughts and emotions. Along the way, she called her boss giving her a quick update regarding the state of the failed operation. The conversation went exactly as expected. There was yelling, belittling, swearing; surprisingly there was no terminating of her employment. Instead, her leadership role was revoked, leaving Tom in charge of tying up the loose ends, and she was ordered to arrive back in the London office within the next 24 hours.

She called a cab to take her back to her hotel. For the entire length of the drive, Carolyn was plagued with her thoughts and feelings over what transpired over the past few hours. She felt like she was overheating as the negative thoughts festered. She pulled at the collar of her turtleneck desperate to release some trapped heat and proceeded to open the passenger window. The cool passing breeze providing a temporary reprieve.

Once the cab halted in front of the hotel, she swiftly exited, entered the building, and headed straight for her room. As expected, she found Hélène waiting for her wearing fully dressed in her evening attire.

“Welcome back ma cherie.” Hélène engulfed her in a hug and kissed her affectionately but briefly. Carolyn felt off seeing Hélène acting as if everything were fine and dandy. She bounced around the room, grabbing a bottle of champagne that was chilling in a silver ice bucket. Hélène proceeded to uncork the bottle and pour two servings of the golden bubbly liquid into glass flutes distributing the glasses between the two of them.

Hélène extended her arm upward with her flute in hand.

“To us.” She proudly declared before clinking her glass against Carolyn’s flute. Carolyn watched her take a long swig of the beverage in celebration. Her nausea returned. She placed her untouched drink on top of the bedside table.

Hélène carried on without missing a beat. “Now that our silly truce is over, we can get back to our evening.” Hélène’s beautiful smile radiated pure joy. She seemed so carefree like she did when they were alone in their private sanctuary. “And to our many other evenings to come.”

Carolyn felt like a knife was twisting in her stomach. She couldn’t take another second of not knowing the truth.

“The arms deal went rogue.” Carolyn said, watching Hélène like a hawk. She noticed an almost imperceptible twitch of her left eye, and the ever so slight falter of her jubilant smile. Hélène pivoted, heading back towards the champagne bottle topping off her glass with her back towards Carolyn.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Carolyn said, hoping she was wrong.

Hélène turned back around looking directly at Carolyn. She took another long sip draining the contents of her glass. “What makes you think that?” She asked, her tone void of emotions.

“Dasha told me.” Carolyn stated coolly.

Hélène left out a huff of annoyance, “Dasha…” She shook her head. “You believe that bottom feeder?”

“I’d rather hear it from you. Did you know MI6 was going to be blind-sided?”

“Yes.” Hélène conceded with a slight tremble in her voice.

Carolyn felt her heart breaking. Tears welled up in her eyes threatening to fall. “It was you, wasn’t it?” She asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Hélène’s neutral expression shifted towards anger. She practically shouted, “I had to! Dasha saw us together, she _knew_ about us. I tracked her while she followed you to the docks. I confronted her and she threatened to expose us. She was going to tell them you were here that we were working together. Killing Dasha was not an option, so I did what I had to do. I had no choice.”

“We always have a choice!” Carolyn retorted, her voice cracking. Hélène’s features softened, she moved to touch Carolyn’s arm in comfort which she swatted away. A flash of hurt passed across the younger woman’s face.

Hélène rationalized in defense of her actions, “What does it matter who wins this time, the Twelve or MI6? It makes no difference. We agreed a long time ago to value self-preservation over company loyalty. There will be other missions Carolyn, you know that. Don’t let this one divide us. Trust me, what I did was in our best interest.” Hélène took another step towards Carolyn. She was so shell-shocked she allowed the younger woman to grab her forearms. The contact felt soothing.

There will always be other missions.

Carolyn knew this was true, both of them were in too deep with MI6 and the Twelve to escape their global power play. She wanted so desperately to believe Hélène’s actions were benevolent, but something just didn’t seem to add up.

“Did you take the promotion when they offered it to you?” Carolyn asked. Hélène squirmed under her gaze.

“Would it make a difference if I did?”

Carolyn shook her arms with enough force to shake loose of Hélène’s grip. Her blood began to boil with anger as her worse fear settled in. “It makes all the difference. If you did this to protect me and to protect us, then you wouldn’t have given up every single detail to the Twelve; but you did and in doing so you gave me up. You gave us up.” She paused from her rant to dab moisture from the corner of her eyes.

“Carolyn, what are you saying?” Hélène asked shifting nervously in place.

“I always knew you were working towards rising above your Keeper role. I just never expected you to get there at my expense. Maybe deep down I always knew this was possible. I was too blinded by loving you to see it.” She took a deep breath mustering all the resolve she had left. “What I am saying, is that it's best for us to part ways. Clearly, we can’t fully trust one another and our relationship is putting us both at risk of losing everything.”

Hélène stammered on, “Carolyn you don’t mean that. This will all blow over soon enough. You are everything to me, I lo-“

“No, you don’t!” Carolyn cut her off, those two letters alone splitting her heart in two. “You don’t love me more than the Twelve. You made that clear today.”

Carolyn’s mind was made up. She opened the door as a queue for Hélène to leave.

“If you need me, you know how to reach me.” Hélène said. After stealing one last glance at Carolyn, she exited the room. Carolyn slammed the door shut.

She felt the crippling, crushing sensation settled into her chest. She wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cry herself to sleep. But she wasn’t afforded the luxury of processing her feelings alone in her empty hotel room. Instead, she packed her bag and headed straight to the airport.

* * *

** The next day **

[London, England]

Carolyn found herself back in Helen Jacobson’s office before she knew it. The fogginess of her mind from her lack of sleeping was a pleasant buffer from her boss’s wrath. Helen was pacing behind he desk talking a mile a minute about how royally screwed they were.

“All you had to do was manage this one mission. Bring back a load of weapons, how hard could that be? Paul’s inquisition is going to bring down the hammer and I will not be there as a shield to protect you.” Helen said. She plopped down onto her padded chair behind her desk.

Carolyn knew she was running out of options. Her job was the only things she had left that made her feel alive and, after her falling out with Hélène, she now felt a new resolve to do everything in her power to end the Twelve even if she died trying.

“I may have something to salvage this whole situation.”

“What on Earth could you offer that would be valuable enough to absolve the mess that is this entire situation?” Helen asked donning her signature unreadable poker face.

“All the details about my informant, Hélène, and her new promotion among the Twelve.”

_Oh but it's too late now_

_I let you get too close_

_I know I should take cover, hide inside these four walls_

_But baby I surrender, it all_

_'Cause you're a force of nature_

_Look at what you've done_

_I can taste the danger but I don't wanna run_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thalassophile = lover of the sea 
> 
> Have to give respect to Carolyn and her spelling bee champion level vocabulary
> 
> Love to know your thoughts and feelings on this chapter!


	11. 10 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolyn and Hélène have a long overdue face-to-face meeting while the rest of the MI6 team decide how to proceed in light of their boss’s dodgy behavior. 
> 
> POV: Carolyn and Eve

Song Inspiration – Control by Zoe Wees

_I don't wanna lose control_

_Nothing I can do anymore_

_Tryin' every day when I hold my breath_

_Spinnin' out in space pressing on my chest_

_I don't wanna lose control_

**10 Years Later**

[Firenze, Italia]

Carolyn continued following Hélène into the depths of the city lagging at least fifteen paces behind. Her initial shock upon spotting the face that has been haunting her waking dreams began to wane and in its place a feeling of dread began consuming her with every step she took. Deep down, Carolyn knew this meeting with Hélène was inevitable. She could feel it in her bones along with her exhaustion. It felt like she has been playing this game on a loop her entire life. Torn between wishing for it to end and sticking it out in the hopes of coming out the ultimate victor; but, the longer they continued, the more the lines blurred between fantasy and reality, hope and hopelessness, life and death.

All she could do now was put one foot in front of the other carrying her along the dimly lit alley ways. After a few twists and turns, Hélène lead them into a secluded garden Carolyn assumed was privately owned and therefore, free of CCTV cameras. Hélène halted under a large oak tree, the center piece of the manicured lawn. She leaned against it facing Carolyn, her back pressed against the bark, one leg propped up for balance, and her arms crossed against her chest. Carolyn opted to remain near the adjourning rose bushes, maintaining a safe distance between herself and Hélène. She braced herself as she ripped off the metaphorical band-aid.

“You could have just called you know? I’m surprised you’re back to killing for the Twelve. Seems rather low for someone who is so _close_ to becoming an anointed member.” Carolyn said, watching Hélène’s face twitch with rage. She knew not becoming a ranking member of the Twelve at this stage in her career was a sore spot for the brunette.

“I did what needed to be done. Besides, would I still be me if I didn’t do something so career defining to get your attention?” Hélène retorted, quick to recover from the deliberate dig.

Carolyn huffed with annoyance, “You’ve been trying to get my attention well before this. Don’t play games. I have a son six feet underground and a rotting lemon in my kitchen as proof.”

“And I have a dead husband and annoying kids to look after. We all have problems, ma cherie.”

There was something poignant about finally speaking aloud the losses they have suffered as consequences of their vendetta. They were both guilty of backstabbing one another to inflict pain.

“So, you agree that we’ve both lost dearly. Seems rather foolish to keep making this so personal, doesn’t it? Under our current arrangement it seems you’ve profited rather well since Rome.”

Hélène smirked in confirmation as if she were reliving their last encounter. “You know as well as I do that the Twelve _always_ gets the weapons they seek.”

Carolyn felt the metaphorical knife slowly twisting with each word uttered. Judging by the subtle quiver of Hélène’s bottom lip and the darting of her eyes, this conversation was affecting her as well. Satisfied with the Hélène’s features contorting into anger, Carolyn continued her barrage of insults touting an air of superiority.

“Well based on the lack of talent in your assassin pool, it seems Aaron Peel’s weapon was more of a necessity than a luxury. Especially after Villanelle abdicated and offered to work for me instead. Something about a toxic boss and better dining options.”

Hélène pushed herself off the sturdy oak and then proceeded to take a single step towards Carolyn. “Talent like hers is hard to come by but even those at the apex of their game can lose it all when blinded by love. Now she is nothing.” The shakiness in her voice and the lost look in her eyes triggered a plunging sensation in Carolyn’s gut and a tightness in her chest. She wondered briefly if this was Hélène’s true perspective on Villanelle or if she was projecting her own feelings onto this conversation. She knew the former rang true but still, she couldn’t deny the authenticity in her former lover’s behavior that made her suspect the latter was also candor.

“I don’t need her to get what I want.”

Carolyn took an unconscious step forward. “What do you want?” She asked, omitting the unspoken, - _from me_ , teetering on the tip of her tongue.

“Why I thought that was obvious.” The younger woman said with a crooked grin, “To take away the thing you love most. Your credibility, your influence, your career.”

Carolyn couldn’t help the bitterness she felt from creeping into her voice. “Funny if you think I even care about that now.”

Hélène straightened her posture drawing confidence from the nerve she struck. Carolyn felt the younger woman towering over her in the moonlight. “You speak as if I don’t know who you are. Your career means _everything_ to you.”

“Ha, _everything_.” Carolyn fought back the new tears welling in her eyes and forced down the bile in the back of her throat. “Well, if you think I am desperately holding on to my career out of unbridled passion for the job at this point then you clearly don’t know the first thing about me. Perhaps you never did. Not that it matters now. I don’t have it in me to care any less at this point.”

There was a time in her life when her stellar MI6 career meant everything in the world to her. During that time, Carolyn had been so singularly focused on her work life she neglected to foster her personal life. She carried on like that for years, until Hélène came crashing into her life.

This was the woman Carolyn bore her soul to. The woman that taught Carolyn how to be vulnerable, how to be honest, and how to love. Inevitably, this openness seeped into her familial relationships. She began to truly treasure the time spent with the people she loved. But now she was paying the price for tearing down her emotional walls. Having lost all of the people she loved in one way or another left Carolyn feeling utterly defeated. The final nail in the coffin was hearing these accusations from the one living person whom she’d loved the most.

As if reading her mind, Hélène took another step forward her features revealing concern as if there was something she desperately wanted to say. Carolyn gravitated closer, her body reacting to Hélène, as it always had. Her skin tingling with anticipation, her heart fluttering with excitement, her belly swooping with hope. It felt foreign, out of place. She almost forgot what it felt like to be in Hélène’s presence.

She felt alive.

Carolyn wanted to clear the air. She wanted to cut through this tension between them. She wanted to confess to the one person that needed to hear it most, despite her best judgement and all the time that has past, a part of her heart still belonged to the green-eyed beauty standing before her.

But she doesn’t.

She can’t.

It’s Hélène who musters the gall to break the silence.

“I know you still care.” Hélène said, her breathless voice laced with desperation. The unspoken, - _about me,_ was not lost on Carolyn who felt a tug at her heart.

She shook her head, a single tear trickling along her left cheek. “Hélène, please…”

Carolyn watched Hélène visibly deflate. It only lasted a moment, before the brunette composed herself.

“If that’s what you really want, ma cherie.” Carolyn’s mended heart begin to crack anew.

She let out a shaky breath locking eyes with Hélène. “I do. I’m so tired.”

Carolyn saw a look of understanding shinning back in Hélène’s eyes. Deep within those green orbs, she saw a familiar look once reserved for their moments of shared intimacy. Whenever Carolyn noticed Hélène looking at her in this manner, she saw a hopeful future staring back at her once filled with happiness and understanding. It was a look that, to her, that had always said I love you.

Hélène composed herself once again, nodding solemnly.

“Fine, truce it is. Antonio Lucca will be named President and the Twelve will have claim on yet another world leader. It’s too late to stop that now. As for Villanelle, she means nothing to me anymore. You can have her and her little pet but, Peel’s algorithm stays with me.”

“Ok, we have a deal. No more lemons, no more bodies.” Carolyn responded.

Hélène nodded yes, “Shall we shake on it?”

They close the distance between them, clasping hands to seal the deal. Hélène’s eyes shimmered in the moonlight. Before she could blink, Hélène broke their contact marching out of the garden dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

Carolyn stood frozen in place. She brought her hand to her face, feeling the added warmth from Hélène’s soft hand against her cheek, wafting the last ruminants of her perfume. It was the one that reminded Carolyn of summer excursions in Italy. Despite all the pain they had inflicted on each other, the personal vendettas, the betrayals, she could never shake the loving feeling she felt in her presence.

She knew this was for the best for the both of them to finally move on. To heal and move passed the damage that eroded their relationship beyond repair.

Eventually, she walked out of the garden through the streets of Florence.

She was numb.

Just walking, one step in front of the other until she arrived back at her hotel. Once inside the sanctity of her room, she peeled off the well-worn fabric sticking to her body and headed into the shower. The warm water cleansing her body from the events of the past twenty-four hours.

After washing up, Carolyn sat on the edge of the mattress clad in a hotel-brand terry cloth robe checking her phone. She quickly scanned through the plethora of messages from the members of her task force that attempted to get into contact with her. The most persistent of which was Eve Polastri as evidenced by the nine missed calls and a novel of text messages. She only bothered to fully read the most recent text “ _We saw who you are working with_.”

Deciding it was best to crack on, she dressed herself in a clean outfit determined to arrive at her standing staff meeting at 10 am sharp at the MI6 office. Eventually, she left the hotel and in the dawn of a new day, Carolyn headed out into the streets of Florence determined to deal with reality.

* * *

**10 Minutes Later**

[Firenze, Italia]

Eve woke up, scrunching her head in an attempt to qualm the pounding behind her eyes. Slowly, she peeled her eyelids open. Blinking a few times before gaining a steady view of the hotel suite. Against her body’s screams of protests, she lifted herself from the mattress. A stray piece of material sticking to her face. She peeled off the ring of black silk that was covered in a healthy layer of drool. She tossed it to the side, groaning to herself, “Gross.”

She sat on the bed, feet dangling off the edge allowing her mind to catch up to the present. The blur of the previous evening began filtering in as fragmented memories: drinking wine, laughing with Elena and Villanelle, Hugo calling them into the office, watching video footage of Carolyn betraying them, drinking more wine.

She attempted to distract herself from the souring in her stomach at the recollection of alcohol by glancing out the window watching the sun rising over the top of the Duomo. It’s a sight that most people travel the globe to see. It’s something Eve would appreciate herself if she didn’t feel like her head was splitting into two and the room was swaying of its own accord. She closed her eyes and rubbed the creases between her temples to quiet the raging storm.

After a few peaceful seconds, Eve decided to power through the day the best she could by first getting out of bed. She braced herself by placing her hand on the nightstand. The moment she touched the hard surface, her fingers splashed in a pool of tepid water. It was then she realized Villanelle left her a glass of cool water that dripped condensation onto the nightstand. The rogue liquid pooling along Eve’s fingers. Adjacent to it was a bottle of paracetamol. Eve was eternally grateful for Villanelle’s habit of playing caretaker. She popped in two white tablets chasing them down with the glass of water and then proceeded to disrobe and head into the shower.

As she cleaned her body, memories of the past day came flooding back in vivid detail – particularly the CCTV footage of Carolyn walking in tandem with the woman that sent an assassin to kill Villanelle a few months ago. The thought of this woman succeeding made Eve furious as did the very real possibility that Carolyn was colluding with this monster and most disturbingly, that Eve once again was played the fool by placing trust in her MI6 boss.

She shut the water off. As the frigid air hit her damp body, doubt crept in. Perhaps Carolyn agreed to keep Eve involved in all of this in order to use her and Villanelle as bargaining chips with the Twelve. It wouldn’t be the first time Carolyn used her relationship with Villanelle as a means to an end.

Eve concluded her morning ritual by brushing her teeth, failing to tame her wild mane, and putting on a sweater and fleece joggers. Now that she felt more like a human being, she wandered into the kitchen. She was met with the heavenly scent of her favorite breakfast foods, blueberry pancakes and bacon.

She once told Villanelle this meal reminded Eve of her childhood. Her mother and father would proudly make “American breakfast” that they would eat together as a family. Family breakfasts were the few loving memories she held of her childhood before her parents ended their marriage. Something Villanelle seemed to recreate for Eve whenever she was having a lousy day. The action made Eve’s heart swell every time.

Eve took a seat in the breakfast nook watching Villanelle cook away in her black kimono. Swaying her hips as she listened to music through her headphones, ladling batter into the frying pan, jostling the sizzling bacon on the back burner, and flipping fluffy pancakes as they browned. In between flipping and jostling, Villanelle noticed Eve. She quickly took off her headphones, placing them on the counter. “Good morning, Eve. How are you feeling?”

Eve answered honestly, “A little less like death now that I’ve had medicine. All thanks to the wonderful woman I know and love.”

Villanelle looked overtly pleased, smiling from ear to ear. She waved the spatula enthusiastically “I do all that I can to keep you away from Death’s creepy hands.”

They shared loving smiles. Eve’s heart fluttered as Villanelle grinned with a blushing red spreading across her face. The younger woman eventually tore her gaze from Eve, focusing her attention back to making breakfast. As she continued to cook, Eve noticed the right sleeve of Villanelle’s robe was a few inches shorter than the left. Her curiosity got the better of her, as it always did.

“Villanelle, what happened to your kimono?”

Villanelle pursed her lips in concentration, staring at the arms of her attire. Then her eyes shot up as if she had a dawning realization. “ _Oh!_ You were sleeping on it and I wanted to wear it. So, I made a compromise. I got to wear _most_ of the kimono while you could continue sleeping on the piece you found comfortable.”

Eve tried to make sense of Villanelle’s logic with her sluggish brain, “So instead of wearing something else or waking me up, you cut off a piece of your own robe as a compromise?”

“It’s a robe Eve, it doesn’t have any feelings.” Villanelle stated matter-of-factly. She turned the burners off and grabbed the plates of food bringing them to the table. “Besides, you looked really cute. Only a heartless monster would have disturbed you.”

Eve was a light sleeper and felt thankful for the second time that day that Villanelle recalled such minute details about her. Overcome with affection, she leaned into kiss Villanelle on the cheek while she was placing the mountain of food on to the table. Villanelle grinned sheepishly in response.

“I know you have a ferocious appetite, but this amount of food looks ambitious even for you.” Eve remarked as she surveyed the generous spread in front of her that could easily feed a small army. Villanelle dropped her jaw in dramatic fashion, “Did you forget already? Elena and your ex-lover with the stupid hair are joining us for breakfast.”

Eve rolled her eyes, “Villanelle how many times do I have to tell you it was a one-time thing with Hugo that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with you?”

Villanelle smirked taking a seat next to Eve, “You don’t have to remind me. I like hearing you admit it. Besides, it doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

“Fine, just promise you won’t maimed him or anything. Elena won’t admit it, but she has a serious crush on him.”

A look of contemplation passed across Villanelle’s features, “You’re right. I don’t want to get on Elena’s bad side. We are practically best friends now.” Eve almost laughed out aloud at the gravity in her tone, internally pleased Villanelle took such a liking to her closest friend.

They heard a set of rapid knocking on the door.

Villanelle bounced out of her chair, bounding over to the door. She opened it wide allowing Elena and Hugo to cross the threshold into the suite. Elena strode over to Eve, engulfing her in a warm hug. “Eve, happy to see you’re still alive too.”

A very audible “Ehemm” broke their embrace which came from Villanelle pouting next to Hugo.

Elena giggled, then pulled Villanelle into a bear hug. “Good morning to you too love, thank you for inviting us over for breakfast.”

After a few solid seconds, the pair broke free from their embrace. The grin plastered on Villanelle’s face a clear indication she was pleased. Eve smiled as Villanelle straightened her posture and flattened out the front of her robe like she would a freshly pressed suit on a job interview.

“You are welcome.” The blonde said with a genuine smile and a small bow. She then turned to Hugo who shrunk under her gaze. To his credit, he did manage to hold it together for all of three seconds under Villanelle’s scrutiny.

“Hugo.” Villanelle stated, voice void of emotions.

Hugo slumped into the chair next to Elena, “Villanelle.” He retorted coolly.

Eve, desperate to move past this awkwardness, decided to move this interaction into more neutral territory. “Ok, well I don’t know about any of you but I’m starving.”

“Yes, please help yourselves.” Villanelle exclaimed, settling into the vacant seat beside Eve.

Eve grabbed a few strips of bacon and three thick stacks of blueberry pancakes. Her mouth watered with anticipation as she fixed her dish.

In her peripheral vision, she spotted Hugo stabbing through a stack of blueberry pancakes. Without warning, Villanelle quickly placed her fork on top of his holding it in place, “What are you doing?” She accused eyes wide with horror.

Hugo looked bewildered, “I was getting a pancake.” He stated as if it was obvious.

Villanelle’s face twitched with anger, “I made these for Eve-” She looked quickly over at Elena, noticing she was halfway through one of the coveted blueberry pancakes in question. “-and Elena if she wants them too.” She scooted the plate out of reach from Hugo and placed the smaller stack of plain pancakes in front of him. “ _These_ are for you.”

Eve watched on as Villanelle sat back in her seat arms crossed in triumph. She would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she found Villanelle’s misguided jealousy amusing. Hugo grabbed a single pancake from the plate not amused in the slightest with this interaction.

Elena was quick to chime in through a mouthful of blueberry pancakes, “These are absolutely fantastic. You’re really missing out Hugo.” Villanelle’s smile widened, clearly pleased with Elena’s approval. Hugo dug into his sad breakfast, pouting in silence.

Eve finally dug in herself. The taste was heavenly, just what she needed to get through the rest of the day. Eve leaned over placing a peck on Villanelle’s cheek causing her to visibly blush. “They are perfect babe. Thank you.”

They proceeded to eat the remainder of their breakfast with idle conversation, no one wanting to spoil the morning with talk of business. After everyone had eaten their fill, Villanelle tidied up the kitchen leaving the three MI6 agents to discuss business in the living room.

“So, anyone have any brilliant ideas for what to do next? And by that, I mean a plan where no one gets shot,” Hugo said, gulping before he concluded, “or worse.”

Eve understood Hugo’s hesitancy all too well. This was a very similar situation to Rome. There was a strong possibility that Carolyn was setting them up to fail, again. It made her blood boil with rage. Adrenaline coursed through her. Eve couldn’t sit still. She opted to pace in the living room while Hugo and Elena shared the love seat.

“We were up all night.” Elena admitted. “The best plan we could come up with was to go straight to the source. Confront Carolyn.”

Eve was frustrated at the idea of civility, “We are way past talking. We have tangible evidence she betrayed us. We need to _do_ something.” She sat down in the chair opposite the love seat trying to collect her thoughts. After achieving a brief moment of induced tranquility, a realization dawned on her. “Wait, Elena what do you mean _we_ were up all night?”

Hugo and Elena exchanged a fleeting glance. Their faces scarlet red.

Eve couldn’t help the shit-eating grin from spreading across her face. “I knew it!” She exclaimed. The clamor caused Villanelle to emerge from the kitchen. She entered the living room while wiping down a dripping wet kitchen knife, staring at Hugo, “If you hurt her, I will kill you.”

At that, another revelation occurred to Eve as her mind wandered elsewhere. “I’m going to kill Carolyn.”

Elena stood up suddenly startling the occupants of the room. “Ok calm down murder twins. No one is killing anyone. We are going to figure this out together as grown-ups. Now, everyone sit you’re arses down so we can sort this out.”

Villanelle parked herself on the floor her back resting against Eve’s legs. The knife resting beside her on the floor. Eve had to assume she placed it with the pointy end directed as Hugo on purpose.

Hugo’s throat bobbed up and down as if he were swallowing his fear. “If we’re being honest. I’m with Eve.” Hugo began with only a slight waver in his voice. “This situation has Rome part two written all over it. “I graduated from Oxford. You’d think I’d make better decisions.”

Elena quirked an eyebrow. “So now you’re saying all of your recent decisions have been poor ones?”

Hugo blushed, stammering to recover from his verbal blunder. “N-not all of them. Only ones involving Carolyn Martens.”

His response seemed to appease Elena who smiled softly and Villanelle who loosened her grip on the knife. Eve placed her hands on top of Villanelle’s shoulders messaging her muscles. She felt the blonde relax under her fingers. In a matter of seconds, Villanelle relinquished her hold on the blade.

Eve mustered up the courage to bring up her own nagging insecurities, “Carolyn isn’t the only problem. We also have Hélène to consider. She could very well be after you again.”

Villanelle must have picked up on Eve’s looming fear. She shifted, turning her head to meet Eve’s eyeline. “If she wanted to come after me, then she would have made a move already.”

Eve released a sigh, “She could still come after you though. If she did, then it would be my fault. I was the one that called Carolyn making a deal to keep us looped into this four-alarm fire.” She felt a sinking feeling took root in the pit of her stomach.

Villanelle placed a hand on Eve’s knee, the weight of her strong fingers calmed Eve’s emotional turmoil as did her steady voice. “You did it to save me. Would you rather be free of the four fires than live without this beautiful face?”

Eve let out a small laugh, grinning from ear to ear. “You have no clue what the term four-alarm fire means do you?”

She brushed the whisps of hair loosely framing the younger woman’s face, looping them around her ear. Her heart swelled as Villanelle smiled, her features full of adoration. Villanelle playfully smirked while shrugging, “I don’t hear you denying a that a life without me is worse than this fire situation.”

Eve gently cupped Villanelle’s cheek taking pleasure watching her eye’s flutter. She admitted in a huskier tone than intended, “So much worse.”

Their moment of intimacy was broken by Elena’s snark. “Well I can name one this that’s worse. All of us dying grisly deaths for getting mixed up in MI6 and Twelve business.”

Eve pinched the skin between her eyes, scrunching in concentration. “You’re right. We need to focus.”

“I think we are missing the bigger picture of what is going on. The Twelve _always_ has a bigger plan hiding behind the little plans.” Villanelle said.

“I think you’re right” Elena agreed. “Instead of placing blame and planning murders, why don’t we run through all the evidence we have so far. Maybe working through it together will help make sense of all of this?”

The group agreed to run through the existing evidence, giving Eve the opportunity to quickly summarize their situation.

“All these politicians are dead. Carolyn lured all of us to one location and then a new body showed up from a Villanelle level killer. Doesn’t that all seem a bit odd?”

Elena inquired curiously, “Are these flashy kills typical behavior for assassins working for the Twelve.”

“No.” Villanelle said a hint of pride in her voice. “It’s something I did when I was trying to get attention from someone special. _Especially_ , when she was ignoring me.”

Eve felt the cogs of her mind turning as she stumbled upon an enlightening realization. “What exactly do we know about Hélène?”

Villanelle crossed her arms, leaning back into Eve’s shins. “She is the worst boss. I don’t know much other than what Dasha used to say about her.”

“And what was that?” Hugo asked.

“She used to go on and on about how Hélène was the best assassin she ever trained. _She was second only to Dasha_.” Villanelle responded in her best Dasha impersonation.

Eve absentmindedly scratched circles along Villanelle’s back as she worked through her thought process. “So, it is possible that Hélène did this kill herself?” Eve asked.

“Yes.” Villanelle hummed in contentment.

Eve continued. “And then it is also possible that she did this kill to get someone’s attention?”

“Mhmm.” Villanelle purred in agreement.

Elena scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. “Eve what are you implying?” she asked.

“What if Hélène was trying to send a message to someone? Like Carolyn? Maybe this is a signal! What if the two of them are working together? If this is what’s going on, then we have to make a plan. We have to stay ahead of them!”

“What are you proposing Eve?” Hugo inquired.

“We have to get Carolyn alone and confront her. Let her know we are not pawns she can play games with. We can take Carolyn hostage and use her to bargain a deal with the Twelve. It’s four against one.”

“That’s mad!” Hugo exclaimed.

“Yeah, I love you and all, but we don’t have all the information here to justify hijacking an MI6 boss for ransom.” Elena agreed.

Eve balled her fists overwhelmed by frustration. After a moment, she felt calmness wash over her from the soothing circles brushing against her knuckles.

“You are right, Eve.” The Villanelle began continuing her ministrations. “We should face your boss,” She held a firm gaze with Eve “-but if it’s not safe for us anymore, then we need to get out of this once and for all.”

Eve sighed feeling helpless. “We tried that Vill. They found us anyway. We have to fight back. It’s the only option we have left.” Villanelle meet her gaze. Eve saw her own sadness mirrored in her hazel orbs briefly before Villanelle blinked willing the emotion away. She nodded firmly in agreement. “Ok If it comes to it, I will fight right by your side.”

The entire group came to their consensus agreeing to use their words first like adults before resorting to treason. After Eve and Villanelle excused themselves to put on proper clothing, the team left the hotel and returned to the MI6 headquarters to face Carolyn. Eve made sure they arrived five minutes after 10 am as a power move, letting Carolyn know they were the ones calling the shots.

Eve was psyching herself up to confront her boss during the commute over to the office. She felt more confident that they were in control as they entered the front door of the bakery. Her mind racing with witty insults to hurl at her dogy boss as the descended the staircase.

All her preparations tossed out the window when she laid eyes at the hollow, shell of a woman sitting in the dingy basement.

The woman looked like Carolyn. She was wearing her pristine form fitting clothes, had the same neatly styled short auburn hair, and air of superiority shrouding her. Her eyes were sunken like she hadn’t slept in a fortnight, her eyes were lifeless as if all the fight was drained from her, and her sad smile never quite reached her eyes.

In that movement, Eve knew she wouldn’t receive an ounce of satisfaction from this confrontation, but her ego was determined to try anyway.

“We know you are working with the Twelve.” She blurted out.

Carolyn’s small smile faltered, and her shoulders sunk further as if she were collapsing inward like a dying star. “Eve can you please join your team and take a seat.” The older woman asked.

Eve felt a light tugging at the hem of her coat. When she looked downward, she noticed Villanelle pulling at her sleeve leading her towards an empty pair of swiveling chairs next to Hugo and Elena whom were already seated. Eve slumped down in between Elena and Villanelle.

Carolyn sighed heavily as if a heavy burden weighed upon her chest. “It’s true that Hélène and I know each other. We have for quite some time.” Her eyes glossed over. She shook her head, taking a succession of quick, deep inhalations and exhalations, exhaling before elaborating further. “Despite what you might be thinking I’m not working with the Twelve. I’ve been trying my best to stop them for years as they have been trying to stop my efforts and by extension the efforts of this team. I’m afraid they have won this time. All of it, the assassinations, the character shaming, it all was meant to ensure their candidate, Antonio Lucca, was elected into office. The Twelve pocketed another political figure head in their quest for global domination and they did so fully at our expense.”

The room was overcome with deafening silence. It was so loud it was disrupting.

“What does that mean?” Elena uttered into the void.

Carolyn looked defeated. She shrugged, stating simply, “It means our services here are no longer necessary. You are all free to go home.”

Eve stood from her chair. The sudden movement startling her onlookers. She barely noticed. All she could see was red. “That’s it!? We are just giving up.” She yelled in anger, desperate to startle the life back into Carolyn. Hoping to rile her up.

“The wheels are in motion Eve and we do not possess the brakes to stop them. We have to accept that.” Carolyn conceded.

Eve couldn’t accept Carolyn’s empty words. “Bullshit!” She clenched her fists at her sides. Her body shaking rage. The only sound grounding her was Villanelle’s voice.

“You made a deal with my ex-boss, didn’t you?” The younger woman asked.

“I have.” Carolyn admitted. Eve’s body shook with rage as the pent-up emotions from the betrayal in Rome came flooding back.

Carolyn continued. “The Twelve gets the election, which we are in no position to intervene on, and in return she called off the hit on you and Eve allowing Eve to remain in my employment. I have her assurance that things will remain quiet for the time being.”

Eve felt a warm, secure grip on her forearm. Her shaking stopped. Her rage simmered out.

“Does this mean Eve and I are safe from the Twelve?” Villanelle asked, her tone hopeful.

Carolyn nodded in confirmation. “You have my word.”

Eve huffed, unable to quiet all of her bitter emotions. “Ha! As if you word is sacred.”

“Sometimes our words are all we have left.” Carolyn said solemnly with her small, sad smile.

Her words echoed in Eve’s mind striking an odd chord. Her anger morphed into another unpleasant emotion she couldn’t quite describe. Much to her displeasure, the feeling clung to her for the rest of the afternoon while the team packed up the office at Carolyn’s request. Carolyn left while the team disbanded the office. Afterwards, the four of them grabbed a bite to eat and few drinks at a local tavern and then separated. Hugo and Elena walked off together. Eve and Villanelle headed in the opposite direction back towards their hotel.

At 7:35 pm, the national news outlet named Antonio Lucca as the next President of Italy. The Twelve won, just as Carolyn had predicted. Eve thought this would make her angry. Instead, she just felt tired.

She turned off the television and lay back flat on the mattress. She closed her eyes trying to recharge her batteries, but she knew she couldn’t remain in this position for very long. If she did, she would run the risk of crumpling the delicate fabric of her evening dress. Carefully, she hosted herself back into a seating posting.

She slipped on her black leather pumps before standing to smooth out the wrinkles of her black knee length bandage dress. She ran her fingers along the lace yoke ensuring it was intact. Eve contemplated bringing a shawl to cover her bare arms but decided against it seeing as the weather was warm tonight.

Earlier that evening, they decided to make a special night out of their final evening in Italy. The agenda involved strolling along the Ponte Vecchio at sunset, buying a token in one of the shops to commemorate the occasion, and concluding the night by dining along the Arno river in a quant restaurant Villanelle made a reservation at with specifications for a table along the water. It was the type of evening a true romantic would envision. A true romantic like Villanelle. Underneath the venire of unbreakable warrior, she was a romantic at heart that constantly went out of her way to make Eve feel like the center of the universe. This was the woman Eve fell in desperately in love with.

Eve spotted her from across the room. Villanelle was doing the finishing touches on Windsor knot to complete her sleek ensemble. She was wearing black, ankle length tuxedo pants without socks and emerald leather loafers, and crisp white button up underneath an emerald green blazer that highlighted the specks of green in her eyes. Her hair was loosely hanging around her shoulders

Villanelle winked at Eve’s reflection once she noticed Eve looking at her in the mirror. Eve’s heart soared watching Villanelle get ready.

“Do you prefer to wear suits?” She asked.

“Not necessarily. I get the impression you have a serious thing for me when I wear them.” Villanelle responded with a knowing grin that made Eve’s cheeks burn. She _really_ did have a major thing for Villanelle in suits. “I really do.” Eve admitted.

Villanelle’s cocky grin grew wider. “Well, that is why I wear them as often as I can.”

“Do you have a thing for me in a particular type of clothing?” Eve asked realizing for the first time that Villanelle has never displayed an outward preference for her clothing.

Satisfied with her appearance, Villanelle left the mirror and headed toward Eve. “Eve, I told you I loved you for the first time while you were wearing a turtleneck. Obviously, I have a thing for you no matter _what_ you are wearing.”

Eve brushed off the overt dig at her lack of fashion sense. “Ha ha very funny. I’m serious though, what would prefer to see me wearing?”

“Do you really want to know?” Villanelle cocked an eyebrow playfully while resting her hands on Eve’s shoulders. She moved them slowly to her neck, scratching lightly at the nape of her neck. Eve’s eyes fluttered, her mouth suddenly felt dry, and her skin tingled under Villanelle’s touch. “You know I do.” She admitted sounding out of breath.

Villanelle bit her bottom lip causing Eve’s heart to pick up pace, pounding wildly against her chest. The blonde lowered her body so that she was eye level with Eve, leaning in closer to whisper, “How badly do you want to know?”

“Very badly.” Eve whispered. She was thoroughly enjoying the shift in conversation.

The distance between them closed as Villanelle inched closer. She chuckled softly, her breath ghosting across Eve’s lips. “Lie down.”

Their faces were so close. All Eve had to do was lean in a few millimeters. Then she could kiss Villanelle’s beautiful face senseless. She wanted to but she didn’t give into her temptation. She knows this is all part of Villanelle’s game. Instead, she does as she was told.

Once she was lying flat on the mattress, Villanelle joined her on the bed by straddling her at the waist. The weight felt familiar and comforting. She noticed a subtle shift in Villanelle’s eyes. It was a look the blonde often had just before making an honest confession.

“You do it for me all the time, Eve. Because no matter what you are wearing you give off this intoxicating confidence and power. It’s very sexy.” Villanelle stated sincerely.

Eve wasn’t sure what enlightening truth Villanelle was going to doll out in, but _that_ definitely wasn’t what she was expecting to hear. It caught her off-guard so much all she could do was laugh. “You think I am confident and sexy?” Eve asked through forced breathes, still recovering from her fit of laughter.

“When you want to be.” The blonde stated seriously. She leaned back a little looking at Eve as if she were a puzzle Villanelle was desperate to solve. “Sometimes you hide that part of yourself.” Villanelle continued. “I am not sure why you do it. You are so beautiful. Especially when you _feel_ like you are.”

Words like beautiful, confident, and sexy were not in Eve’s own personal dictionary she would use to describe herself. She was not the type of person to readily accept a well-meaning compliment either. But lying there, under Villanelle’s wonderous gaze, she started to believe her words were true.

She felt it.

Emboldened by her newfound confidence, Eve wrapped her right hand around the silk tie dangling on her chest. She tugged it lightly pulling Villanelle closer. The blonde gave in, leaning on her fore arms resting on opposite sides of Eve’s face. All the while, donning a knowing grin as if she _knew_ the affects her statement were having within Eve.

Villanelle could read her like a book. It was something Eve both loved and hated about their relationship. There was no hiding from Villanelle. For better or worse, she was forced to live her truth while in Villanelle’s company. The same was true of Villanelle. She could sense the shift in Villanelle’s demeanor. She was loving the power dynamics just as much as Eve was.

Eve felt powerful.

She tugged harder on the tie pulling Villanelle in completely while leaning off the mattress to capture her lips. The kiss was rough but controlled. Eve was in control. In the heat of the moment, she bit down on Villanelle’s bottom lip drawing a little blood. Tasting metallic liquid in triumph. Villanelle pulled back slightly. Her eyes were darker and hooded. She rocked her hips into Eve. The sensation alone eliciting a surge of pleasure causing Eve’s eyes flutter shut, momentarily overcome with desire.

She opened them fully when she felt strong fingers take hold of her wrist, pinning them to the mattress. Villanelle hovered above her. Locks of honey blonde hair framed her face like a golden halo. She reminded Eve of a living goddess. A goddess that held her fate firmly within her grasp.

The golden beauty asked with curiosity. “Serious question. Do you miss my love notes? The ones I used to create just for you.”

The pressure on her wrists was becoming painful which further fueled the blood coursing through her veins and the aching between her thighs.

“Yes, I do.” Eve practically moaned in response. Villanelle reattached their lips. The kiss was softer, almost hesitate and far too brief for Eve’s liking.

Pulling back, the younger woman asked. “Are you upset I do not kill for you anymore?”

The gravity in her voice gave Eve pause. She looked back at the younger woman, wondering if this was something weighing on her since they fled London.

“I’m not upset.” Eve answered honestly.

“But?” Villanelle pushed, relinquishing her hold on Eve’s wrists.

Eve remained silent. Her emotions surging beneath the surface recalling all the murder and mayhem Villanelle was referring to. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. Each time, failing to vocalize exactly what she was feeling. She didn’t know how to put into words what she is feeling. Much to her relief, Villanelle took a stab at it for her.

“I can feel how excited you are with death. You miss the thrill and the power you felt through my actions. You have a _need_ to feel it for yourself.”

Eve shook her head. “I admit I have a morbid fascination with female murders. All this time I thought what I was craving the mystic behind taking a life. To decide the fate of another human being. There is power in that; a rush, an addictive feeling. I thought that’s what this chase was all about. A power play for dominance.”

Villanelle watched on captivated. Eve smiled and let out a small chuckle. “I was wrong. What I was chasing all along was _you_ and the way you make me feel. I feel everything when I’m with you. Excited, powerful, beautiful, silent judgement that I _know_ is due to my clothing choices, and unconditional love. You give me everything all the time. So no, I’m not upset you haven’t killed anyone to get my attention. You don’t need to. You have my undivided attention, always.”

Eve sat up the best she could, wrapping her arms around Villanelle’s torso to anchor herself. She kissed Villanelle pouring ever once of truth into that action. After feeling completely content, she pulled back.

“We should go. I was promised a romantic night in Italy. Plus, I don't want to ruin this beautiful dress I _know_ you enjoy seeing me in.”

Villanelle smiled. She removed herself from Eve’s lap allowing Eve the freedom to stand on her own two feet. Villanelle held Eve’s hand, interlocking their fingers.

“The first of many romantic nights.” Villanelle said. She held Eve’s hand by interlocking their fingers leading her to the front door. Just as they were about to head out into the night, Eve turned to Villanelle.

“Promise me one thing.” Eve stated

“Anything, Eve.”

“Do not order spaghetti.”

“I promise.” Villanelle said with a smile.

_Sometimes I still think it's coming but I know it's not_

_Tryin' to breathe in and then out but the air gets caught_

_'Cause even though I'm older now and I know how to shake off the past_

_I wouldn't have made it if I didn't have you holding my hand_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for waiting patiently for this latest installment. I hope all the quality VIllaneve content made it worth the wait!
> 
> Your lovely comments and kudos are inspiring <3


	12. 3 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A toast to the future unfolding in all of its glory.
> 
> Friendly reminder: all time stamps are in relation to the previous chapter

Song Inspiration – Daydream by The Ace

_Daydream 'bout me_

_And I know that you hate the nights without me_

_Baby, I hate 'em too_

** 3 Years Later **

[London, England]

Eve loudly cleared her throat effectively ushering the attention of everyone in the bridal shop.

“A toast.” She began, raising her flute of champagne, “To the bride to be. You’re the most loyal, witty, and drop-dead gorgeous woman on the planet and someone I am proud to call my best friend. It has been an honor and privilege to serve as your maid of honor over these past few months. And while I love being at your beckon call around the clock, I am beyond thrilled to pass off these magnanimous responsibilities onto your husband the second, and I mean the _very second_ , you both say I do.”

Her attempt at humor elicited a round of laughter from the other bridesmaids, mother of the bride, and the bride herself.

“In all seriousness. We love you and wish you all the happiness in the world.”

Eve raised her flute a little higher. The rest of her company followed suit.

“To the future Mrs. Felton-Turner.”

Eve took a glorious swig of champagne basking in the jubilance of the occasion. Elena’s face radiated pure joy as she sipped her drink clad in her white dress. She was truly a vision. Eve was so happy for her friend, but a small part of her couldn’t help but feel a tad jealous. She knew it was selfish, but she just couldn’t help wanting the stability and safety of a binding commitment. An everlasting tether to the person she loved most; like what Elena and Hugo will soon have. It’s something she thought about more and more.

She sipped on the remainder of her drink trying to distract herself from self pity by making small talk with Elena’s relatives while the tailor did her magic with the final adjustments to Elena’s dress. Just one of the many tasks to check off the seemingly infinite list of things to do in preparation for the wedding.

After the fitting, Eve and Elena bid farewell the rest of the bridal party and then walked over to the florist shop a few blocks away to finalize the center piece arrangements.

“Ahh, I finally feel like I can breathe.” Elena took a few exaggerated deep breathes of the cool London air. Eve remembered all too well the stress of planning her own wedding and could see it was taking a toll on her friend. “As maid of honor I insist that you distract me from all things matrimonial for the next 10 minutes.”

“Deal.” Eve promised keeping stride with Elena.

“I’m so happy to have you back in London again.” Elena said with sincerity.

“I’m glad to be back.” Eve began, “The timing just worked out so perfectly. Villanelle landed her post-graduate internship with the top interior design firm in London which is a major accomplishment, and it pays well too.”

“Things seem to be going rather well.” Elena commented.

“I can honestly say they are. They have been for quite some time. It’s just everything is falling into place now. We are actually settled.” Eve felt as if a weight was lifted as she spoke the words aloud. “I never really thought that was in the cards for us. I hoped it would be, but now we are here! Some days I pinch myself just to make sure this isn’t all a dream.”

“No one deserves it more than you and Villanelle." Elena began, "You two have been to hell and back and somehow managed to make it out alive. Besides, I have her to thank for teaching Hugo her famous blueberry pancake recipe. He was so proud when he made them on our first anniversary.”

“Ha, I’m sure her ears are burning from the complement.”

“As long as it doesn’t distract her from her woman of honor duties, I will praise her all day.”

“Villanelle takes her duties very seriously. She left the house with a portfolio of god knows what when she left the house this morning. So, I’d say Hugo’s tuxedo fitting will be a success." Eve found Villanelle's devotion to her new friendship endearing. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am they finally became friends.”

“Stranger things have happened." Elena commented, "Speaking of which, when’s the big dinner date?”

“Saturday.” Eve shoved her hands in her pockets to keep herself from fidgeting. “Momma will be visiting London for the weekend.”

“You seem worried about it.” Elena stated matter-of-factly.

“Not worried, just unsure. Villanelle isn’t exactly the bring her home to meet your family type and momma, well, I have no clue how she is going to react to Villanelle at all. The only certainty is that they will meet each other on Saturday.”

They rounded the corner towards the flower shop. Eve couldn’t shake a nagging thought. Maybe it was her own insecurities bubbling to the surface that compelled her to ask.

“How did you know you were ready? I mean you and Hugo haven’t known each other that long.”

Elena shrugged. “When it’s right, it’s right.”

Eve’s thoughts wandered back to Villanelle and that’s where they remained while debating white roses versus lilies over the next hour and a half. After finally settling on roses, Eve parted ways with Elena promising to check in with other wedding duties later. She took a half day off to take care of her maid of honor responsibilities and was due back at the MI6 office.

She was beyond thrilled to be back at her old stomping grounds. Granted she was mostly surrounded by new faces. Young agents trying to make their way in the world. They filled the workplace with their optimistic and go getter attitudes. It was pleasant and helped her avoid falling prey to becoming yet another jaded veteran just going through the motions.

Eve settled into the swivel chair at her desk. She took a swig of coffee and began typing up her reports. Her cases have been sparse but now she had a few interesting ones that peeked her attention. Unfortunately, that meant she was obligated to do boring paperwork for the remainder of the day. She breathed a sigh of relief when the final finished report was emailed to her boss. Eve switched off her desktop and collected her belongings to head home when she was interrupted by said boss.

“Eve, do you have a moment?” Carolyn asked hovering near her desk.

“Another one?” Eve asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

She wasn’t at all surprised. Simply intrigued.

They congregated at the evidence board. Carolyn pinned up new photos from the latest crime scene.

“Fresh from Dartford is Mr. James Cross.” Carolyn began, tapping on the mugshot of the victim, “Middle aged man found mutilated in his estate earlier this morning. His two daughters, both of which were in the house during his assassination, were left unharmed. Mr. Cross once served as a key witness for an MI6 investigation a little over ten years ago and has been under witness protection ever since.”

“That’s the fourth, middle aged male victim with kids that was under witness protection.” Eve noted.

Carolyn turned away from the evidence board to face her. “Could that be the only connection?”

“It would appear that way.” Eve concluded.

“We both know _nothing_ is ever simply as it appears.”

Eve felt the truth of that statement deep in her bones.

She took a moment to properly evaluate the crime scene. The man was brutally murdered but something about the cuts to the body struck her as meticulous and deliberate. Each strike echoed points of infliction on the other three bodies.

“This was all the same killer.” Eve realized, “The style is _evolving_. Very skilled, calculated but it’s as if this person is coming into their power. Testing the waters. Pushing their own boundaries.”

“Like Villanelle?” Carolyn asked.

“No, Villanelle _knew_ her own power. She was playing a game. Showing off to get attention and trying to feel something. This killer is not trying to feel anything. Whoever this is, they are trying to send a message of what they are capable of.”

“To whom is this addressed to?”

“Now that’s the question.” Eve steadied her breath. She could only think of one possibility, “Do you think it could be the Twelve?”

Carolyn shifted uncomfortably before turning her attention back to the board. “It is a possibility. They have been dormant for years but not disbanded.”

“Why now?” Eve’s mind began to race as she took it all in.

“Why now indeed.” Carolyn added staring at the evidence, pondering this mystery along with Eve. They remained in thoughtful silence for a while. No conclusion drawn. Eventually, Eve finished packing her things and left.

She exited the office feeling a mixture of excitement and dread. On the one hand, she now had an intriguing serial killer to focus her attention on at work which meant less paperwork. But on the other hand, if the Twelve was involved, then the pieces of her life that were finally coming together in perfect harmony may be scattered to the wind once again. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but she couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Eve ascended three flight of stairs up to her apartment. She unlocked the front door and crossed the threshold into the apartment closing the door behind her. She plopped her bag on the ground next to one of the many unpacked boxes from their move. After breathing a sigh of relief, Eve noticed Villanelle sitting on the couch in the living room. She seemed agitated. Something felt off.

“Villanelle, what’s wrong?”

A rustling sound came from the direction of the kitchen. Eve swiveled her head to the left only to discover the source of Villanelle’s agitation emerging from behind a stack of brown boxes.

“Hello Eve.”

Eve tried her best to remain composed, keeping her features from betraying the anger she felt rising which each passing second.

“Konstantin.”

_But you know, but you know, but you know_

_I'm comin' back to you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure it feels like 3 years since the last chapter. Thank you all for your patience. I needed an emotional reset after writing the last chapter to map out the remainder of this story. Looks like the story will be 18 chapters total. I hope you all enjoy the rest of the ride!
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings about where we are and where we are going!


	13. 1 Second Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle and Eve sort out the Konstantin situation.

Song Inspiration: Shake it out by Florence + The Machine

_It's always darkest before the dawn_

_And I've been a fool and I've been blind_

_I can never leave the past behind_

** 1 Second Later **

[London, England]

She sat there fuming.

Absolutely livid.

Instead of reveling in the fact that her favorite person in the entire world was home, Villanelle continued to stew in a silent rage. She barley even registered the shifting cushions when Eve sat next to her on the couch.

She was all consumed by his presence.

The audacity of his emergence from the shadows carrying on like everything was honkey dory. Standing _here_ , in _their kitchen,_ munching on their food and drinking their vodka like a welcomed guest. He carried on like the good old days as if no time has passed in complete denial that he abandoned her many years ago and she had not heard from him since.

The cut of his betrayal ran deep. It wasn’t something Villanelle dwelled on. Frankly, she hadn’t given _him_ much thought at all. However, there was something about seeing his stupid face and hearing his awful laugh that drudged up the long-neglected wound. Each additional second in his presence added an extra ounce of salt. It burned, and not in a good way.

She knew this was inevitable. Part of her knew Konstantin would come crawling back someday. She also knew the air of joviality he was putting on was all an act.

Konstantin was here because he wanted something from her.

He always did.

It was annoying how predictable he was.

“Aren’t you going to offer your guest a seat?” Konstantin dared to ask with a mouthful of food.

“Guests aren’t rude. They don’t break into their friend’s apartments and steal their food.” Villanelle retorted hoping to convey her anger through the venom in her voice. Much to her chagrin, she was met with another hearty laugh that only fueled her rage. She would have leapt off the couch and shoved the sandwich he was eating like a ravenous animal, spilling specks of mustard and crumbs all over her new hardwood floors, right down his thick windpipe. She really would have, if it wasn’t for Eve’s hand resting upon her knee keeping her grounded.

“Just tell us why you’re here.” Eve began, “The sooner you start talking the sooner you can leave.”

“And skip that part about the amazing tan you got in Cuba.” Villanelle eyed him up and down in an exaggerated manner, “I’ve seen dead people with more color in their skin. You should really get a refund.”

Konstantin’s face twitched ever so slightly. It was a tale tell sign Villanelle knew all too well. His throat bobbed up and down either from finally swallowing the sandwich or from terror.

“I need your help.” He managed to say. The quiver in his voice made it sound like a desperate plea. It almost sounded genuine.

“Why on earth should we help you?” Eve asked in disbelief.

Konstantin slumped into the closest unoccupied chair. “Because I have no where left to go.” He looked smaller than Villanelle remembered. If Villanelle didn’t know him so well so might have felt pity. But she did know him. She could read him like a book. Always could.

“Bullshit.” Villanelle said while staring daggers at her former handler, “You’re lying.”

Konstantin rolled her eyes and straightened his posture making himself appear taller and more formidable than he did a moment ago. “Ok fine. I’m here because this involves you too.”

Villanelle rolled her eyes in frustration and clasped her hands together.

Same old Konstantin. Mincing words and playing games. Still, there was something authentic about his fear. It was palpable, radiating off of him in waves.

“Does it involve us now or will it involve us once we agree to help you?” Eve asked crossing her arms across her chest. Villanelle could tell Eve was frustrated but there was a glint of curiosity simmering in her eyes that gave Villanelle a feeling of unease. It’s the same look she got when she studied corpses.

“Someone is trying to kill me. Hunting me is the more accurate term.” Konstantin admitted running his hand through what was left of his thinning grey hairs.

“Couldn’t imagine why.” Eve quipped sarcastically. Villanelle couldn’t help but smile with pride. Eve was not falling prey to Konstantin’s bullshit. She truly was the perfect woman. Villanelle was lucky to have found her and luckier still to have kept Eve interested in being with her after all these years. It was something she fully intended to do for the rest of her life.

Konstantin let out another dreadful laugh tearing Villanelle from her pleasant thoughts of Eve. She focused her attention back to Konstantin. Her insides churned with disgust.

“Ha, you are funny! You know that? I see why Villanelle likes you so much. I know many people want me dead, believe me. I’ve been hiding for years without any trouble. Now all of a sudden death is following me everywhere I go. Why now?”

“Why now…” Eve muttered under her breath.

Villanelle noticed the shift in Eve’s body language. “Eve, you are thinking loudly again.” She reached out and rubbed circles on Eve’s thigh trying to pull her back to the present. It was no use. Eve’s mind was already spiraling. She stood up abruptly and grabbed Villanelle’s hand.

“Excuse us.” Eve marched towards their bedroom pulling Villanelle along leaving Konstantin alone sipping vodka in the living room. She closed the door behind them.

Eve paced the bedroom, tossing her coat onto the bed and running her hands through her hair. Villanelle has known Eve long enough to recognize when Eve was on the verge of solving a seemingly unsolvable problem.

“What are you thinking, Eve?”

Eve plopped down on the bed with a sigh. She patted the unoccupied space next to her as an invitation for Villanelle to join. She sat down cross legged on the mattress waiting for Eve to explain.

“I think Konstantin is telling the truth.”

Villanelle’s eyes shot up in surprise. She opened her mouth to protest but was swiftly cut off before she could get a single word out.

“I know he is usually full of shit but just hear me out. I’ve been working on a string of murders recently, a new one today as a matter-of-fact. I wasn’t sure what they all had in common until now. All the victims were men with daughters, all of them around Konstantin’s age and vaguely resemble him too, now that I’m thinking about it. There is a really good chance someone _is_ out there trying to kill him.”

Villanelle shrugged, “Maybe the killer is doing us all a favor. The world doesn’t need one Konstantin let alone many Konstantins.”

Villanelle relaxed when Eve laughed at her joke. Clearly Eve wasn’t so invested in all of this that she lost her sense of humor. That was a good sign.

“I think the more logical reason is the assassin is sending Konstantin a warning message.”

“That seems like a lot of extra work. It would be more efficient to just kill Konstantin.”

“You’re right. It would be more direct to just target him.” Eve let out a long exhale, clearly frustrated, “There has to be more to this. Maybe if we keep him around, we could use him to lure out the killer.”

Villanelle pondered this for a moment. “Ok, but he is _not_ staying with us. Who knows how much more damage he will do to our apartment?! I am already sending him the bill for cleaning the mustard and crumbs off our hardwood floors.”

Eve nodded her head in agreement. Then leaned in and kissed her. Villanelle allowed herself to get lost in it. Threaded her hands into Eve’s soft, thick hair. Focusing on the thrumming in her chest, the sound and of Eve’s whimper when she captured her bottom lip grazing it with her teeth the way Eve liked it. All of her rage to fizzled out as she became consumed by Eve.

“I didn’t get a chance to say hello earlier.” Eve said when they finally came up for air.

“No, you didn’t.” Villanelle purred, “You also owe me every last detail of Elena’s dress fitting.”

“I promise. You will get a full report the second Konstantin is gone.”

Villanelle was struck with a wicked idea. She started peppering kissing along the length of Eve’s neck. She stopped when she reached Eve’s earlobe, whispering her masterplan, “We could just drive him out of the apartment with loud sex.”

Eve chuckled, “As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather not give him a show.”

Slightly disappointed, Villanelle ceased her ministrations. “You’re right. He is a pervert that would enjoy it too much.”

“We need to take him to MI6. Carolyn will know what to do with him to keep him out of our apartment.”

They went back into the living room and told Konstantin their verdict.

“Carolyn will never agree to this.” Konstantin protested.

Eve stubbornly crossed her arms across her chest. “Well, we will just have to see about that.”

* * *

** 10 Minutes Later **

[MI6 Office, London]

“Eve, what made you think I’d agree to something like this?” Carolyn asked.

The quiver of her bottom lip coupled with the inflection in her voice gave away her anger. It was a perfectly reasonable response to seeing Konstantin again without warning. Villanelle could relate. She shifted awkwardly behind Eve wishing they could be literally anywhere but here.

Eve smoothed the creases between her brows. “Because,” Eve began, “he could be the link to everything we are working on. Deep down, you know I’m right.”

Carolyn seemed to contemplate what Eve said. As much as Villanelle hated it, she knew Eve was right about this. She usually was. Carolyn would have to be a complete fool not to listen. The MI6 boss was many things, but a fool was not one of them. She sat there behind her desk staring at Konstantin with narrowed eyes. Villanelle wondered if Carolyn regretted not killing Konstantin when she had the chance. If their roles had been reversed, Konstantin would have never left Paul’s house alive.

Eve and Villanelle left Carolyn and Konstantin alone to hash things out. The two of them decided to hang around in Eve’s office while they awaited the outcome.

Villanelles took a seat on top of Eve’s desk. She swung her dangling legs as she wracked her brain trying to come up with a way to distract Eve. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind, something that’s been weighing heavily on her for the past few days.

“Should I wear a gown to meet your mom?”

Eve looked at her like she had two heads.

It worked, she definitely had Eve’s full attention. She continued on.

“Your mom values formality. Nothing is more formal than a gown. Does she like red? Or black? Or teal? It would be easier to pick one out if I knew what colors she liked. What’s her favorite color? Gowns come in all colors.”

Eve seemed taken aback. “How can you be thinking about my mother with everything going on with Konstantin?”

Villanelle shrugged her shoulders. “Because what happens to him is not important to me and showing your mother what a good girlfriend I am is.”

Eve’s shoulders dropped and her face un-scrunched. She approached the desk, “You’re right. Family is more important than Konstantin and MI6.” Eve conceded. She stopped directly in front of Villanelle.

Villanelle was delighted by this. She wrapped her arms around Eve’s waist pulling her in closer.

“You are my family Eve. That makes you the most important person to me.”

Eve leaned in and placed a chaste on her lips. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Villanelle hopped off the desk. She laced their fingers together. “Always, but what about them?” Villanelle asked casting a mildly concerned glace in the direction of Carolyn’s closed office door.

Eve adjusted her handbag over her shoulder and shrugged. “If we are lucky, they will kill each other.”

They shared a laugh and then left the office.

On the walk back to their flat, Eve regaled Villanelle with all the glorious details of her morning with Elena. Villanelle was beyond thrilled to learn that Elena sung her high praises for teaching Hugo how to make blueberry pancakes the way she liked them.

“Just wait until she sees Hugo’s wedding tuxedo. So much better than a pancake. I hope you will be able to control yourself too Eve when you see him.”

Eve rolled her eyes and playfully swatted her arm. “Just when I thought you were finally over that. It was one time!”

Villanelle couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, yes and it was one time too many and I will bring it up for the rest of our lives.”

Eve’s body tensed and her laughter died out. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was long enough for Villanelle to notice. She turned to face Eve. She had this indiscernible look in her eyes, one that Villanelle had seen on more than one occasion over the past few months. She didn’t quite know what it meant, and it never lasted long enough for Villanelle to ask about before Eve brushed it off entirely.

Still, that look seemed to happen whenever she mentioned their future.

There was something about that look that gave Villanelle hope Eve wanted the same future she did.

_And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't_

_So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road_

_And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings on this chapter and where you think we are headed next!


	14. 10 Minutes ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolyn and Eve both work through the unintended consequences of Konstantin’s sudden appearance.
> 
> Of note, all time stamps are in relation to the previous chapter.

Song Inspiration – Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

_I took my love, I took it down_

_I climbed a mountain and I turned around_

**10 Minutes ago**

[MI6 Office, London]

Carolyn finally gave in and released a yawn. She managed to successfully hold back at least a dozen since Konstantin arrived in her office, but she was just so livid she couldn’t conceal her anger anymore.

It was exhausting.

She eyed Konstantin from across the desk. He opened his mouth to speak. Carolyn steeled her gaze and stiffened her jaw in a silent challenge. He snapped his mouth shut, tightened his lips for good measure, and averted his eyes. Eliciting squirmy behavior under her gaze left gave Carolyn a shred of satisfaction. The last thing Konstantin deserved was comfort of any sort.

Carolyn proceeded to open the bottom drawer of her desk, albeit a tad more forcefully than she should have, rummaging through the contents until she found what she desperately needed. She removed the coveted bottle of gin and high baller glass from the drawer placing them on the desk out of reach of her unwanted guest. In silence, she poured herself a glass of the clear liquid and then stashed the bottle back in its hiding spot. After closing the draw, she crossed her legs bumping the underside of the desk and causing the clear liquid to ripple.

She calmly took a sip of gin while staring at Konstantin and then placed the glass back on the desk.

“Much better.” She clasped her hands in front of her drawing Konstantin’s focus back to her, “I’ve just tripped the silent alarm under my desk. You have less than thirty seconds to make your case before security removes you from my sight.”

Konstantin’s face contorted into a grimace. To his credit, he managed to hold her steely gaze this time. “Look, I didn’t come here to see _you_. I’m in danger! Someone found me, followed me. Ever since I arrived here, maybe before. They _know_ things about me. I need he-.”

He was cut off mid-sentence just as the office door flew open. A broad-shouldered gentleman with tanned skin and muscular physique came rushing through the door. His dark pupils honed in on Konstantin. Before he could take another step forward, Carolyn dismissed the young agent with a wave of her hand.

“Removal by force won’t be necessary, Raul. Thank you for your quick response.”

A bead of sweet ran down Konstantin’s face betraying his seemingly aloof demeanor.

Raul stood at attention. “Yes, ma’am.” The fit agent spun on his heel, swiftly exiting the office and closing the door behind him leaving Carolyn alone with Konstantin.

Konstantin released a deep breath, tugging at the collar of his shirt presumably to release some pent-up heat. “Was that really necessary?”

“Let’s just cut to the chase. I’d rather not be in your presence for any longer than necessary.” Carolyn took another sip of gin to steady herself. “What do you want?”

Why he was here was irrelevant. She’s known him too long for that.

“I-,” Konstantin began. He rubbed the back of his neck briefly before clasping his hands in his lap, slumping his shoulders inward which made him look smaller, “I need help. Someone is trying to kill me. I swear I didn’t come all this way looking for your help not after- ” Carolyn’s eyes snapped from her drink to Konstantin. Her blood boiling as the repressed memories of their last encounter were threatening to bubble to the surface. She fought back another yawn. Konstantin must have picked up on her shift in mood. He quickly changed the subject. “Ehm, I mean I came here for Villanelle’s help and she pawned me off on you. I wouldn’t be here if I had anywhere else to go. Believe me.”

“Hmm.” Carolyn muttered to herself as she contemplated her options.

“There must be something I can do for you in exchange for your help.” Konstantin pleaded.

“There is nothing you can do for me, but there is something you _owe_ me.” Carolyn stated as coolly as possible, trying not to let her voice betray the emotional turmoil brought on by Konstantin’s presence.

Konstantin shifted uncomfortably in his seat as if he sensed the brewing storm. “What is it?”

“Closure.”

One single word. Spoken barely above a whisper. 

It was so soft; Carolyn wasn’t entirely sure if she voiced it allowed. Her confirmation that she did was Konstantin’s facial twitch indicating he heard her loud and clear. He too knew where this was headed.

“Who sent you after Kenny?” Carolyn asked, sitting back in her seat, “Chasing back channel financial data was never your strong suit. Seems out of the ordinary for you to stumble upon one of the best hackers who ever lived all on your own.”

Konstantin straightened his shoulders before answering. “She sent me there.”

An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

“Who?” Carolyn asked, her voice cracking.

She had her suspicions but needed the confirmation for her own peace of mind.

Konstantin stared at her. His eyes swimming with something resembling sympathy.

“You already know who.”

His voice never quavered. His face never twitched. Not once.

Deep in her bones she always knew Hélène could have played a role in the death of her son. But she wasn’t prepared for the gut-wrenching feeling hearing the truth out loud.

“I see.” Carolyn managed to squeak out while fighting back tears, “What did she want with Kenny?”

“She didn’t want anything from him, in fact she didn’t mention him at all. She only pointed me to the location of the server that was investigating the money transactions. She used that weird Peele guy’s weapon to gather this information. So, I went to stop it. I didn’t know I was going to find Kenny there.”

“I find some of that plausible and other parts not so much. Answer me honestly.” Carolyn demanded.

“About what?”

She needed to know. Needed to be absolutely certain.

“Did Hélène order you to kill Kenny?” She finally asked.

After a pregnant pause, Konstantin replied. “No.”

Carolyn felt like a crushing weight was lifted off of her chest.

“But she didn’t forbid it either. The living make good witnesses.” He shrugged, “The dead not so much. You know how she is better than anyone.” Konstantin added with a soft chuckle. He was testing the waters and trying to lighten the mood. It made Carolyn’s stomach sour.

“Of course,” Carolyn began, “she wouldn’t explicitly forbid it, but the appeal must have become clear to you the moment you laid eyes on my son.” She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking as she became increasingly agitated. “One dead son in exchange for one dead husband. Tit for tat.”

Konstantin’s eyes widened in horror as if he had haunting realization.

“I know better than to get in the middle of you two. I value my own life too much.”

“There is nothing to get in between. Not anymore” Carolyn assured him. Or she tried to. Konstantin didn’t seem convinced. 

He scrunched in face in amusement, “Now who is the one not being honest? You two are worse than Villanelle and Eve with the lengths you’ll go through just to meddle in each other’s lives.”

Carolyn wanted to deny the accusation but to do so would be untrue. Still, being compared to Villanelle and Eve and their reckless love affair wounded her pride.

The longer she remained silent the bigger Konstantin’s smirk grew.

“This isn’t about her.”

Konstantin shrugged. “It could be. If anyone could have found me in hiding, I’d bet what little money I have left that Hélène had something to do with it.”

Carolyn sat back in her seat mulling over this information. It was of course possible Hélène was behind this. It was also just as likely Konstantin was using her former love affair to manipulate her into helping him.

“Why now?” She asked after a few moments of contemplation. “You abdicated from the Twelve nearly three years ago. If Hélène and your former bosses really wanted to reprimand you, then why wait three years to keep good on that promise?”

“Working for the Twelve is like marking yourself with a short expiration date. We don’t know when they will expire us, but we know it’s inevitable. The Twelve rarely does what anyone expects. You should know that better than anyone. There are always competing priorities, politics, et cetera that usually take precedence over eliminating lower-level information specialists like myself. Either that or they were putting something really _special_ together for my assassination. You know, because they liked me so much.”

Konstantin grabbed the glass of gin, draining the contents in a matter of seconds. Carolyn didn’t have the fight in her at the moment to stop him. Her mind was racing a mile a minute.

“Right.” Carolyn stood abruptly from her chair once she was more collected. She donned her long coat and grabbed her bag. “We'd better get you under proper MI6 accommodations while we sort this out. Somewhere great.”

She stormed out of the office without bothering to wait for Konstantin.

“Eve I need you to- ”

Villanelle and Eve were nowhere to be found.

Konstantin huffed placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed parent. “Typical Villanelle. I swear she has the attention span of a fruit fly.”

“Or maybe they finally killed each other.” Carolyn commented. She fished her phone out of her bag, dialing a colleague as she strode towards the exit.

* * *

**20 minutes Later**

[Not So Great Safe House, London]

Konstantin circled the cramped, dingy apartment with his hands on his hips as he surveyed his new living quarters.

Carolyn lingered in the entrance for a few beats before shutting the front door. As if on some cosmic comical cue, the slanted knock off reprint of Monet’s water lilies gave up its hold on the wall crashing down and adding a new dent to the linoleum floors. Konstantin pursed his lips reflexively before forcing the corners of his mouth up into a smile.

“It’s… nice.” He commented.

“It’s the absolute _least_ I could do.” Carolyn retorted. She moved into the apartment stopping in the kitchen. She placed the keys to the flat, a burner phone, and a business card on the dented table. “You are officially under MI6 protection. I’ve taken the liberty of assigning one of my agents to your case.”

Konstantin picked up the items briefly scanning the card.

“His name is Raul. You met him earlier.” Carolyn continued, “His contact information is there. Call him if any issues arise. Raul will determine if there is anything worth reporting to me.”

“Your kindness is touching, really.” Konstantin crossed hands over his heart in mockery.

Carolyn yawned.

“You’re a means to an end. Nothing else. I’m sure you understand that better than anyone.” Her tone was icier than intended.

Konstantin responded with a feeble nod and a cryptic smile. “Trust me, I don’t want to be here a lot more than you don’t want me here.”

“Doubtful.”

“Believe what you want.” Konstantin quipped.

Carolyn popped the collar of her coat striding towards the exit. She was in dire need of a bath.

“Carolyn?” Konstantin called out causing her to pause. Her hand millimeters away from the doorknob. She pivoted on her heel to face him.

“It’s about my daughter.”

This was unexpected.

Konstantin slumped onto the ratty couch, a small puff of dust rising into the air.

“The last time I saw Irina was three years ago. She was locked up in a Russian juvenile detention center. I called. They told me she was released several months after her admission. After that, there’s nothing…” He trailed off. Hie eyes glazed over. “ I don’t know where she is or if she is even still alive.” He released a shaky breath, rubbing his hands on his knee before daring to look up and meet her gaze. “If you aren’t too busy, would you be able to tell me something, anything about Irina’s whereabouts? Please.”

Rationally, she knew he was playing the parent card. It was a dirty trick only an amoral person would pull to sway another person who still felt the dull and constant ache of losing a child. Still, Carolyn couldn’t help herself from empathizing with him. She knew, if the roles were reversed, she would want to know that her child was alive and well in the world at large.

“Eve will look into and send her report to Raul.”

“Thank you.”

Carolyn nodded firmly. She left Konstantin behind resolving to have the world’s largest gin and tonic along with a relaxing bubble bath to mull things over and make sense of all of this.

* * *

**2 Days Later**

[Not So Great Safe House, London]

The stench of garlic, fennel, and rotting meat lingered in the air. It was inescapable and only intensified the longer she remained in the ransacked safe house. Eve rolled her neck to the side relieving the newly formed stress knot and releasing a long exhale.

“Ok, let me get this straight,” She turned her attention to Konstantin, the man of the hour, who was sulking on the warped wooden chair in the center of the living room, “You didn’t buy any sausages since you arrived. These all just appeared out of nowhere?”

“I already told you that’s impossible. My bank account was completely emptied.”

“When did you first notice your funds were gone?” Elena asked from the far corner of the room. She was half listening to Eve’s interrogation while she inspected a few dangling links. It was hard to ignore them. They were everywhere, literally hanging from the ceiling like foul smelling holiday lights. Eve side stepped a few blobs of grease on the carpet as she approached Konstantin.

“I tried to withdraw money last night.”

“To buy sausages?” Hugo asked in between snapping photos of the bizarre crime scene.

“No!” Konstantin exclaimed clearly agitated, “Who would spend the last of their money to buy enough sausages to fill their entire apartment?!”

“Seriously, this must be some kind of world record for most sausages in an apartment.” Elena commented marveling in wonder at their surroundings, “We should seriously consider submitting this to the Guinness people.”

This was some kind of hellish déjà vu. Eve was sure of it. They had been here for hours, but somehow were getting absolutely nowhere. She smoothed the creases between her brows in an attempt to qualm the oncoming tension headache. When she was more collected, she clapped her hands together. The sudden noise instantly silenced all the clammer in the apartment and drew the attention of the occupants of the room.

“Ok, can everyone stop fixating on the sausages.” Eve ordered.

“Hard not to.” Hugo said, swatting a few dangling links away from his face, “This is a _literal_ sausage fest.”

“Try harder.” Eve barked, losing what little remained of her patience. She had a very important appointment to keep and was becoming increasingly frustrated with the lack of progress on her team’s investigation. She turned her attention back to Konstantin. “Have you noticed anything else out of the ordinary besides the missing money and abundance of mystery meat?”

“There is the word “Izhets” written in blood along the bedroom wall.”

“Liar. That’s a bit on the nose.” Hugo muttered.

Everyone in the room stared at him in surprise.

“What? Villanelle taught me some Russian.” Hugo stated matter-of-factly.

Elena cocked an eyebrow playfully in response. “What else do you know in Russian?”

Hugo smirked seductively. “Well now that you asked...”

“Save it for your honeymoon, please?” Eve pleaded. “We don’t have time for this right now.”

“She taught me stuff for that too.” Hugo commented with a wink causing Elena to blush.

“Good grief.” Eve said. The thrumming in her skull intensified. She fished a few loose paracetamol tablets from the bottom of her purse and dry swallowed them before continuing. “Ok, Konstantin can you think of any butchers you’ve lied to? Maybe within the last three years”

Konstantin gave her an unimpressed look that screamed “No you idiot”.

“Can’t blame me for asking. You have to admit it would explain the meat and the blood.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t quite explain the art instillation. Piss off any photographers with a history of stalking?” Elena asked.

Eve approached the wall in question. As it happened, it was the only area in the apartment free of dangling sausages making it the focal point of the room. There were photographs plastered over every inch from floor to ceiling. Most of them contained images of Konstantin from afar.

“Well, you were right Konstantin. Someone is definitely following you.” Eve commented as she scanned the photos.

“Great.” Konstantin muttered. The sarcasm in his tone did not go unnoticed.

Elena took the lead, questioning Konstantin about his whereabouts in an attempt to connect the photographs to a tangible timeline. Eve opted to inspect the photos while listening along. Konstantin made note of a photo in the upper right-hand corner in which he was snoozing in a lounge chair, drink dangling in his hand, and bare feet buried in the sand. He informed them this was taken while he was in Cuba, deducing whoever was after him was tracking him from his bungalow. How long this person was watching him remained a mystery. What they did know, was they documented Konstantin arriving on the tarmac of the London City airport all the way to the safe house they were currently in.

Eve drowned out their conversation when a particular image caught her attention.

The subject of the photo wasn’t Konstantin. It was a woman. Not just any woman. A woman that looked an awful lot like Villanelle.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. 

She snatched the photo off the wall for a closer appraisal. The resemblance was uncanny. Villanelle was walking into a high-rise building dressed in a charcoal pants suit. The realization that this stalker knew where Villanelle worked caused Eve’s stomach to twist in knots.

What she found scribbled in black ink on the back of the photograph was worse.

_Stay out of this Eve_

An icy chill ran along her spin while her vision came in and out of focus.

Eve grabbed her belongings in a haste rushing for the door. She barely registered the other voices in the apartment. When Hugo blocked the doorway, she simply pushed the crumbled photo into his chest using the momentum of her body to move him aside.

She rang Villanelle as she jogged through the apartment complex out into the streets of London.

Every call went straight to voicemail.

Eve hailed down the first cab she spotted sending the driver to Villanelle’s office building.

_And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills_

_‘Til the landslide brought me down_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy winter holidays to those who celebrate. Consider this my gift to you all!
> 
> Also, sorry not sorry about the ending. I promise there is a method to the madness here.
> 
> Feel free to yell at me with your thoughts and feelings.


	15. 2 Minutes Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle has some unexpected trouble at work while Carolyn's worst fears are confirmed, yet again.

** 2 Minutes Ago **

[Tremblay Designs Headquarters, London]

Song Inspiration – Black and White by The Band Camino

_I'm back to where I've been_

_And my mind is where it bent_

_I'll stare at your name_

_But I'm far from dying yet_

_I want to lay it on the line_

_But all your calls decline_

_This is the black and white_

“I-It’s – well – I mean- it’s such a _hefty_ sum. The baron and baroness made it quite clear where to draw the monetary line with this sort of thing.”

Villanelle was so close to securing the deal of a lifetime. Renovating the summer estate of minor royalty was the perfect opportunity for an up-and-coming interior designer looking to make a name for herself. The tabloids jumped at the chance to showcase the rarely used magnificent castles of lords and ladies earning the interior designer some well-earned publicity.

It was the perfect opportunity for her.

The only thing standing in her way was the homeowners’ representative, Mr. Brighton.

“You do understand, right?” Mr. Brighton asked, taking his handkerchief and dapping the beads of sweat from his forehead, “Surely there must be wiggle room to lower the price.”

Mr. Brighton was a heavy-set man with a receding hair line and permanent worry lines etched into features making him appear much older than he should for his age. His tailored pin stripe suit was clearly made from quality material but not well kept as evident by the glaring creases along his blazer indicating the jacket had been folded rather than hung.

They had been going back and forth for the better part of an hour ironing out the finer details of the contract. The last bit, the most cumbersome, was of course the cost.

Villanelle correctly deduced the man sitting in front of her was the type of person who spent a great deal of time around money but was not in possession of a substantial amount of his own. The lack of personal fortune gave him a sense of frugality that his bosses lacked. The trick in this situation, as Villanelle discovered early on in her career, was to figure out _who_ held their fingers on the purse string.

Rarely was it the underling sent to broker the negation.

“Of course, Mr. Brighton.” Villanelle began, leaning back in her seat. “We have taken careful deliberation when drafting the plans for the estate, which if you recall, delighted the baroness to no end thus leading to this very meeting we are having now. Now, to deny the baroness the home of her dreams, the luxury she craves, would be foolish and for what? A few extra euros?”

“12,503 extra euros to be precise.” Mr. Brighton mumbled.

“And how much is that really worth to the Baron and Baroness? Are they strapped that much for cash? I was under the impression they were doing more than well financially. I mean if that _isn’t_ the case, perhaps our firm should really reconsider this contract entirely…”

“No, no!” Mr. Brighton quickly interjected. “Such drastic measures won’t be necessary.”

Since abdicating from her career as a hit woman, Villanelle learned to perfect the art of negotiation. She weaponized her words and put her keen perception of reading subtle body language cues to good use. For instance, judging by the twitch in this Mr. Brighton’s eye and the single bead of sweat running down his neck towards rim of his collar, he was seconds away from caving.

It was time to switch tactics.

Villanelle stood from her desk moving towards the chifforobe in the corner of the office. She opened the door revealing a selection of top shelf liquor. The kind used for wooing clients, making them feel like the most important person in the room.

“Can I offer you some Hennessy Mr. Brighton?” Villanelle asked not waiting for an answer before pulling the bottle and glass from the cabinet and pouring a tall glass.

“Yes. The Master Blender’s selection number 3 is my favorite actually. What a wonderful coincidence.”

She smiled warmly, handing the drink to her client.

“Oh, I had no idea. How lucky!” Villanelle said with her eyes widened in surprise.

She knew.

Only a fool walked into a meeting unprepared.

He took a healthy swig of the amber liquid. Afterwards he tapped his fingers against the glass as he silently deliberated. Most people wouldn’t notice this subtle nervous habit.

But she does.

The continuous clinking fueled her growing impatience.

“We could go over the floor plans and budget break down, room by room?” Villanelle offered in her attempt to sway Mr. Brighton over to her way of thinking. “Perhaps combing through the details of every deliberate, and may I say brilliant change, to the estate will help make more sense of the price?”

She could see the cogs turning in his mind.

“This isn’t cheap but then again, my masters are not looking for cheap.”

“And we wouldn’t provide them with anything less than chic. You will be in the very best of hands.” Villanelle assured him.

After a few seconds, he caved in. Villanelle tried to contain her excitement as he reached into the breast pocket of his blazer. Just as she was internally celebrating her victory, a loud commotion began just outside her office.

Both Villanelle and Mr. Brighton froze.

They heard muffled shouting from two distinct voices, loud stomping, and a single crashing noise just before the door to her office swung open. In barged an out of sorts, pissed off, and very sexy Eve along with the office secretary trailing meekly behind.

“Ma’am she is in a very important meet- ”

“-No meeting is too important for MI6. Or would you like me to bring you to the station for further questioning? I’m sure we have an empty cell with your name on it for impeding government business.” Eve growled.

The mousey assistant cowered under Eve’s gaze, back peddling towards the reception area. Mr. Brighton seemed too frightened to move a muscle. Villanelle was stunned by the events unfolding before her very eyes.

“Eve, what are you doin-”

In a state of frenzy, Eve brandished her gun in front of her body pointing it directly at Mr. Brighton cutting Villanelle off midsentence.

“-MI6! Hands where I can see them. Move them _slowly_.”

With a shaky hand, he slowly retracted a well-worn brown leather wallet from his pocket holding it above his head for the wild-eyed MI6 agent to inspect. Eve didn’t move to grab the sad thing, she simply stared with unfocused eyes lowering her revolver.

Villanelle was swirling with feelings including fury, excitement, arousal, and mostly confusion. But she didn’t show any of these emotions. Instead, she opted for diplomacy to diffuse the chaotic situation while salvaging her business deal.

“Eve, as I’ve told you many times before, Tremblay Designs _does not_ make acceptations for government officials. You must stick to your scheduled appointment time. Rules are rules.”

The look of shock and confusion plastered over Eve and Mr. Brighton’s face gave her a smidgeon of joy. She had to refrain from laughing at her own improvised ruse. She straightened the front of her blazer, circumventing her desk with the contract in hand.

“Now, although the MI6 agent is being very rude barging into our meeting like this, our time allotment is actually up Mr. Brighton.” She handed him the documents, “Why don’t you see Emelia out front. She can square away the contract so our firm can get to work first thing Monday morning.”

The bead of sweet on his neck finally completed its descent collecting on the cusp of his shirt collar, staining the white fabric. Mr. Brighton nodded, quickly scrambling out of the office avoiding eye contact with Eve. He shut the door behind him leaving Villanelle and Eve alone.

Eve looked relieved for a fraction of a second before the fervent panic returned.

“Are you ok? Did he try to kill you?!”

“No.” Villanelle began, trying her best to remain composed. “That was my client. We were just finishing up our importantmeeting. You know, the one _I told you_ about this morning.”

“Why is your phone going straight to voicemail? I thought you were dead!”

“I turned it off. It’s very rude when someone’s phone goes off during a meeting. The professional thing to do is turn off your phone and I am a professional now.”

Eve slumped down into Mr. Brighton’s vacant chair. After releasing a heavy exhale, she stowed the gun back in her oversized handbag.

“Since when do you have the authority to carry a gun around… and lock people in cells?” Villanelle asked, taking a seat along the side of her desk. Her dangling legs mere inches from Eve’s.

“I don’t. I was panicking and I didn’t know what else to say.”

Eve reached for the abandoned cognac on the table. Villanelle opened her mouth to stop her, but the words died on the tip of her tongue as Eve downed the remaining liquid in a single gulp.

Villanelle felt something unsettling in the pit of her stomach as she watched Eve. She was doing that thing where her eyes glaze over indicating she was zoned out. Oblivious to everything around her while trapped in the recesses of her mind. Eve often did this when something was wrong.

She gently swung her right leg tapping Eve’s knee drawing the brooding brunette’s attention to her.

“What’s wrong?” Villanelle asked out of concern.

“Konstantin was telling the truth, for once. Someone was after him- is after him. They’ve been after him since Cuba, maybe even before he arrived there. It’s difficult to be sure. Regardless, they found him. _Here_. I was at the safe house all morning. The place was covered in sausages.”

“Sausages?”

“Yes. Weird right? They were everywhere, even little ones scattered all over the floors. I can’t make sense of it.”

“Little sausage…” Villanelle said trailing off as an interesting thought crossed her mind.

“That wasn’t the worst part. It was definitely the grossest part. But along the wall were all these pictures of Konstantin. The stalker was boasting with how long they’ve been following him. They used it to send a message to Konstantin, to MI6… and to me.”

Her interest in Konstantin’s sad story peaked with the mention of Eve.

“There was a message for you?” Villanelle asked.

Eve nodded. A sad smile crept along the edges of her face. “It was a picture of you. Here. On the back was a note telling me to stay out of this. After that I had to know you were ok. When you didn’t answer the phone, I came straight over here.” Eve locked eyes with her, causing a butterfly feeling in the pit of Villanelle’s stomach. Something that happens every time Eve looked at her, even after all of these years. She reached over grabbing Eve’s knee giving it a squeeze.

“I’m ok as you can see. Not a single scratch on this pretty face.”

The lighthearted joke elicited a much-needed laugh from Eve. Her shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Now, I have to get back to my boring paperwork before I can leave for the day. I have a very important appointment to keep.” Villanelle hopped off her desk winking at Eve before settling back into her leather chair at the head of the desk. “You are more than welcome to stay. It shouldn’t be much longer. I’m very good at this.”

“You are good at so many things.” Eve said with a wicked smile and a deeper, sultry tone of voice.

Villanelle dropped her jaw and raised her brows trying to look shocked at Eve’s suggestive comment. “Eve, this is a place of serious business. Flirting in the workplace is not professional.”

Eve sat back in her chair. “I’ll try to behave myself.”

Villanelle fought back a goofy grin as she refocused her attention back to finalizing the contract. Once all the I’s were dotted and t’s were crossed, Villanelle wrapped up her remaining business for the day leaving her office for a brief moment to complete her final task before returning to collect Eve.

“Did you seriously change outfits?” Eve asked the second Villanelle opened the office door.

“I can’t wear a power suit to meet your mother. I wore this to look intimidating to clients not to scare your family. Besides the blouse is teal, that’s your mother’s favorite color. She will like this better, trust me.”

After checking out her appearance one last time to make sure she looked presentable, Villanelle escorted Eve out of her office whisking her out into the streets of London. Together, they set off in the direction of the train station. Just as Villanelle planned, they had plenty of time to spare for a quick detour. One Eve was in desperate need of.

Eve had been acting nervous over the past few weeks, ever since her mother announced her intent to visit them in person. One of her stranger habits, Villanelle had learned, was trying to cook more often. Trying was a loose term. Rarely did Eve actually cook anything. She mostly performed a lot of prep work. On more than one occasion, Villanelle caught Eve mindlessly chopping mountains of vegetables in the kitchen only to abandon them all together and order take out for dinner.

If Villanelle had to repurpose Eve’s nervous veggies and make one more ratatouille this month, she might lose it.

She grabbed Eve’s hand, interlocking their fingers leading them both towards a local sweets shop. Villanelle choose this particular walking route knowing full well Eve’s vice was candy. Eve’s face lit up with glee like an excited child the second they crossed the threshold. She filled an entire bag with a variety of sweets while Villanelle collected a sensible portion of her own favorite gummies, Tangfastics. After paying for their treats, the pair munched on their snacks as they completed the walk to the station. Eve was in a much more lighthearted mood by the time they arrived. They took a seat on an abandoned bench in front of the terminal where Eve’s mom was scheduled to arrive at in less than ten minutes. Needless to say, Villanelle stress ate the entirety of her goodie bag.

Meeting the girlfriend’s parent was new. Something she has never done before. It was a little scary. Especially, because this wasn’t just any girlfriend’s parent. It was Eve. Eve loved her mother dearly, and Villanelle could tell from the unique inflection in her voice when she spoke to her mother on the phone, every Sunday and major holiday, that her mother was perhaps the most important person in her life. At first this realization made Villanelle jealous. She wanted more that anything to be the most important person in Eve’s life. But that was then.

Now, she had normal things. A normal life. That included having someone she loved more than anything else in the world and friends, real friends, that were her newfound family. With all these novel experiences, she finally understood what family was, what it meant, and why Eve loved her mother so much. It was this epiphany that made this particular meeting with Eve’s mom all the more nerve wracking.

Making anything less than a stellar first impression was not an option.

The grating sounds of metal sliding on top of metal along with loud rumbling signaled the arrival of the train. Eve and Villanelle stood from the bench moving closer to the platform. Villanelle focused on her breathing and calming the pounding in her chest while Eve scanned the crowd of people exiting the train. A look of recognition passed across Eve’s face. Villanelle followed her line of sight to an older woman she presumed was Eve’s mother. The resemblance was uncanny.

She was a shrunken woman with silver curly hair held back in a low bun. Her eyes held a steely gaze with a mischievous glint, just like Eve’s. Villanelle thought she looked like an older, more worn version of Eve. If this woman was indeed anything like Eve, which Villanelle suspected was very much the case, then she had her work cut out for her.

Villanelle’s posture straightened out of instinct to impress. The older woman made her way towards them at a snail’s pace as she struggled carrying a bag that was twice as large as she was. Villanelle assumed this was out of stubbornness as Eve had a tendency to do the exact same thing whenever they went on holiday.

“Mamma! Stop, let me get that for you.” Eve said as she made her way to her mother’s side. The older woman swatted her hand away.

“I’m old, not dead. I can manage my own bag.”

“Ok, if you say so momma.” Eve turned to Villanelle who was slowly approaching the pair, keeping a respectable distance. Eve rolled her eyes, pulling Villanelle to her side. “Momma, I’d like you to meet Villanelle.”

Something short circuited in her brain the moment Eve said her name. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Eve’s mom eyed her curiously which made her nervous energy escalate to full blown panic. So, she bowed. Full on bowed. When she resumed her regular posture, she was met with kind brown eyes and a smile.

“Hello Villanelle. It’s nice to finally meet you. My daughter told me show much about you. Nice blouse by the way. I absolutely adore that color.”

“Me too- I mean, she has told me so many wonderful things about you- and thank you.” Villanelle stammered.

“Really? Nice words about her mother? That doesn’t sound like the daughter I raised.” Eve and her mother shared a quick laugh together. Villanelle didn’t understand the joke. She stood there quietly trying not to focus on the fact that her palms were clammy.

“Ha, oh momma I thought you were going to save the jokes at my expense for dinner.” Eve commented with a chuckle. She took a glance at her watch frowning slightly at the time. “Speaking of which, we should head back to the flat.”

Villanelle noticed Eve’s mom wince ever so slightly as she attempted to pick up her large bag.

“Since you are now officially our guest,” Villanelle began, “you are not allowed to do any extra work which means I will carry your bag.”

“Who am I to say no to the rules of hospitality?” Eve’s mom asked with a shrug.

Villanelle smiled with triumph. She bent down to collect the bag quickly realizing why Eve’s mom was struggling with it.

“Geeze this thing weighs a ton. What do you have in here dead bodies?”

Villanelle blurted out her thoughts before her brain could assess whether or not this was an appropriate question to ask her girlfriend’s mother who may or may not be totally aware of her former career as an assassin. Fortunately, Eve’s mom didn’t miss a beat. She simply retorted with a wave of her hand.

“You think I’d be foolish to carry evidence with me?”

Villanelle couldn’t help but laugh.

Like mother like daughter.

After they made it back to the apartment, Villanelle got straight to work preparing dinner while Eve gave her mother the grand tour of the flat followed by time to freshen up after her lengthy train ride.

By the time Eve’s mother emerged from her quarters, Villanelle was putting the finishing touches on dinner. Eve took her mother into the living room allowing the two of them time to catch up until super was ready. Villanelle half listened to the two murmuring in Korean as the took the shepherd’s pie out of the oven. Strange coincidence this of all things was Eve’s mom’s favorite meal to eat in England. Villanelle has since perfected the recipe over the years and was determined to dazzle Eve’s mother with her culinary skills.

Once the pie had cooled for an appropriate amount of time, Villanelle transferred the dish onto the dining room table and then walked into the living room to collect Eve and the guest of honor. They were mid conversation about the state of their apartment when she appeared.

“I’m sorry Eve but I can’t let you spread these lies to your own mother. We debated _for months_ over the faucets in the bathroom. Thankfully you came to your senses and agreed to go with the elegant gold ones I picked out.”

Eve’s mother stared at her with a look of surprise on her face that was quickly replaced with a heartwarming smile. “Y-yes, they are a lovely choice.”

Villanelle smiled widely internally thrilled Eve’s mother shared her own taste for decor.

“See! Mother approved. We can keep discussing Eve’s really cute but also terrible decorating choices over dinner while the food is hot.”

“Fine, but not all my choices were bad…” That same look of surprise passed over Eve’s face, “Since when can you speak Korean?!”

“I speak so many languages, Eve.” Villanelle said as nonchalantly possible. The truth was she spent the last several months secretly leaning Korean in preparation for meeting Eve’s mom.

There was nothing more intimate than speaking the same language as another person.

Eve’s mom made her way towards the kitchen, patting Eve on the shoulder and whispering loudly as she passed, “I like this one.”

They all sat down to eat, digging into the shepherd’s pie. Villanelle watched Eve’s mother savor her first bite out of the corner of her eye. She was so excited and thrilled she couldn’t help but ask, “Better than the moustache’s?”

“Way better.” Eve’s mom replied before taking a second hearty bite.

As they continued to eat, Eve’s mom regaled them with stories about Eve’s childhood. Villanelle hung on every word while Eve became increasingly more flustered as her mother divulged some of the more embarrassing stories. It was a beautiful family moment Villanelle was so happy to be a part of. While Eve’s mother was deep into explaining the details of her post retirement life in the countryside, Villanelle noticed a shadow passing through the kitchen window along with a few muffled thudding sounds coming from the back porch. She brushed it off focusing her attention back to the dinner conversation. She would have forgotten the whole thing entirely, but the same thing happened again while she was clearing the plates from the table.

At this point, her suspicions were heightened.

Eve and her mother appeared relaxed chatting across the dinner table. She didn’t want to alarm them, especially if this was nothing, and decided to make up an excuse.

“I’m going to take the trash out. Be back in a few”

Eve raised an eyebrow. “You hate doing that.”

“I do but I also don’t want our guest to be in a smelly flat.” This seemed to appease Eve, she went back to conversing with her mother. Villanelle grabbed the vile trash bag, trying not to breath in the repulsive odor, as she took it outside onto the back porch.

She practically ran to the bin, tossing the bag inside and quickly shutting the lid. With that terrible chore out of the way, she could finally concentrate on taking in her surroundings. There was nothing in out of the ordinary by the bins. She took a walk around the corner of the building. Still nothing. Only when she convinced herself everything was fine did she hear it.

The soft creaking of wooden planks caving in under the weight of a movable mass. It was soft, but still audible sound coming from behind her.

Villanelle pivoted her body, turning around to face the sound. Slowly, emerging from the shadows was a familiar face. One, she wasn’t all surprised to see given the events of earlier in the day.

“I was wondering when daddy’s little sausage was going to show her stupid face.” Villanelle spat at Irina. The young woman chucked with a sinister grin moving closer to Villanelle.

* * *

**Meanwhile**

[Not So Great Safe House, London]

Earlier that day, Raul relocated Konstantin to a higher security safe house on the outskirts of town where he was tasked with remaining on the premise at all times. Carolyn didn’t envy the young agent in the slightest. She would rather be alone in the silence of the dimly lit hovel with the lingering stench of sausages.

Visiting a crime scene in person wasn’t something Carolyn Martens typically did. But in this case, she decided to make an exception. After all she had her suspicions and needed to investigate for herself.

Carolyn did not find anything truly remarkable in the flat, except for the wall collage of photographs taken from Konstantin’s unwanted secret admirer. There she stood before the towering display taking stock of every detail, until she found what she feared most. It was something seemingly inconspicuous to the untrained eye. But to someone with suspicions, someone like her, it was the lynch pin tying this mess together.

The skin on her arms prickled with gooseflesh as she traced the letters S.P.Q.R. hidden amongst the images of Konstantin.

Senatus Populusque Romanus.

The sovereign governing body of ancient Rome. Those who upheld the law and brought justice.

Justice.

That’s what this was always about.

It was always about the events of Rome.

_Call it a rivalry, call it a fight_

_Call it what you want_

_But I need you tonight_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 3 more chapters to go!
> 
> To all you lovely people reading this (and especially to those still reading this from the very beginning), I appreciate you all so much!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first every attempt at fan fiction as I typically write KE analysis posts. Hopefully this was readable and at the very least entertaining. There are multiple chapters planned for this story with shifting POV's among the characters that will hopefully keep this story interesting for you! 
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think! Please feel free to leave comments there or reach out to me with any thoughts and feelings on tumbler @Please-return-to-Villanelle
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


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